The Circle Of Seating Poem by Naveed Akram

From experience I glanced at the circle of plush seating,
And my argument started to run like the bones
Under my skin, leaving marks was all a wide grin.
By a slight movement my embarrassment had to begin,
It was futile to envy the sinner of pure black eyes,
He was a valid accusation when I was the root of illness.
If I saw anything my mask was without approval,
As I left the Milky Way and resided in a cabin
That jaundice kept for the cool, a way of retaliation.
As I stared at the wonderful ceiling, the pages burned
Inside my mind towards the fulfilment of worries and dreams.
Let a carved man see the goal for his sculptor
Who produces fine wines needed in this galaxy.