Twenty-Four Hours Poem by Mohammad Rafique
Twenty-Four Hours
With any luck
by car or truck
they find a parking space.
But if not,
at the other lot,
you will see a race.
On any day,
they make their way,
just like all the others.
With coffee strong,
they all get along,
just like they were brothers.
In the night,
the group takes delight,
making all of the rounds.
Escape the dour!
Off to happy hour,
besides friends, strangers, and clowns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 2:38:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
