Under The Eyes Poem by Naveed Akram

Tell me, what are your eyes
That wore lids and plentiful numbers
Open to the public hours,
Loathing the stay of the century?

The back of a house is an hour from
This room, that shudders and shouts
With shooting breath and noise,
Examining the fur of the roof.

Tell us why your eyes see diversities,
This simplicity shows to the public,
A hour has passed before the break of dawn
Under the roses and the noon.