The fighting, the being sick was collapsing the building
Of right and not wrong, full of family and justice.
To decide a shock is to be made on the family of life
Is to let buildings crash, to let the hospitals be shut.
My nation shudders from the life of some patients
Who live alone and bend no laws yet get bent bones and wrong aches;
These aches are demonstrated by the young,
Youth is high, old age may triumph as higher
In pain and might, in guesses and facts.
The fighting and sickness shall end when games are over,
If certain doctors resent the game of tricky life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you went out of the box and brought back this uneque poem.i like your style of poetry.well done Naveed