My People Die Poem by Naveed Akram
My People Die
My people die when they are asleep,
Kicking and punching their way to the heavens.
The wonder of peace suggests diplomas of good,
The good say goodbye to the morning.
My personality is finer than the workers of good,
It causes a stop and finds a treasure of gold.
The nature of some discovery sings to the tune,
And this melodious sound finds truth, in truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/14/2024 7:57:17 AM # 1.0.0.1119
