Where For Me? Poem by Naveed Akram

But, where is the prison for me?
I see light through a window of my own making,
And my tasty food enchants beings
Who stammer in their speech.
It breaks, the light breaks
Forming a dawn.

But, when do my salaries expire?
It comes to mind a thought from
Plato or Hegel, welcoming new
Ways of thinking for my food and plate.
The dusk has changed the life
Around my home and habitation.

The city is of the cities a bright star
Too awesome like Polaris,
It shines in front of the eyes
And the character exhibited is
Gusty like the wind
That drives the vanes of such utility.

My use is my employment,
The jail of our lives has passed
With future prospects in view,
Little is my soldiery but much is
My awed profession, incomplete
As the pen that runs out.