The Thorn Poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai

However ill you may feel to think of a thorn
He is to do, no doubt, for what he is born.

He can be regarded as the lover of the flower
And he is clear in his point of view each hour.

He can be regarded as the wise elder
To give advice to the wanton younger.

He can be regarded as the jealous cousin
Who always burns without any reason.

He can be regarded as the unfortunate
Who has only sorrow to narrate.

He can be regarded as the ascetic soul
Who always prefers to remain all sole.

He can be regarded as the outcast
Who wants to say something last.

He can be regarded as the hopeless preacher
Who wants to do his task like a strict teacher.

He can be regarded as the crooked Evil
Who can never become polite and civil.

He can be regarded as the agent of the sadist
Who is to prick at last as well as at first.

He can be regarded as the realist
Who arrests all the wayward escapist.

He can be regarded as the guard
Who is to perform his duty hard.

He can be regarded as the Nature's rule
To be taught to the careless fool.

At last a thorn is merely a thorn
To do what for which he is born.