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Offering Me
Before the war the major had been a scholar,
Systems were malfunctioning due to his guess,
And so he jingled with pride at the open air,
Instilling pride in those eyes that were two.
To blur the words I have been small,
As the sight has arrived due to the blurring word.
He, the scholar, was facing my pages of ruler ship,
The cancellations and doubts blurred the page.
An electronic system was abroad and welcoming,
Off as an action, offering me with praise.
poem
by
Naveed Akram
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