To Make Money Poem by Naveed Akram
To Make Money
To make money please decide the question and answer;
Forming this requires patience, I dissolve like an ogre.
Towards a star that bled, I store the stones my mother owned
Which gracefully abide in my tongue, itself the one moaned.
Open a gate to deliver the stone too sacred
My gates are now closed to any expected.
I lose but own, and I make money so long,
That tears run down the cheeks of song.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/29/2026 2:40:43 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
