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Epistle To An Old Friend
You are a doctor now - I've heard
A colourful glass jar
Your figure
With a dedicative label
Of service to the sick and the suffering.
I've heard
Your dreams have come true
The waning, waxing moons
Of quaint wishes
We saw together
Have blossomed to fullness.
Away and beyond
In lands overseas
All chapters of your book
Of youthful ambitions
Have come to be written.
I've heard
You have got all you ever
Wished for, desired.
All ideals realized.
A higher academic degree
Fame, renown and status
A pretty home
A loving husband - and children!
Salutations
Best wishes
For all th' laurels won
All that you've done.
But O my Messiah
Of long-forgotton woes!
Did you ever give
A backward glance?
The time-worn memory album
Was always there to see
Faces, friendly and faithful
Dust-laden though
In the pledges of everlasting rememberance.
What lenses
Of remorse
Will ever reveal visages of past?
How'll you ever
Bridge the empty spaces
Rolling from dreams
To eyes - and beyond?
How'll you ever
Put soothing balm
On your self-afflicted wounds?
poem
by
Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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