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The Moon Is Still
The still moon was light enough for centuries,
Work rid the Earth of slumber, music and abilities.
I found in the midst of all tragedy in the world
A great sight of poverty, full in curiosity that unfurled
The carpet most pure for the lame and rich,
Egotistical behaviour missed the ditch.
I say on a month too merry why the sun was hot
In that day and night to celebrate a jackpot.
The luck ran a hundred miles on my legs,
Without breakfast, with energy and eggs.
The moon was our very satellite to read
Like a book, or a puzzle to solve indeed.
For years I have written these words, and on and on,
Fierce worship causes us to forsake the dawn.
poem
by
Naveed Akram
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