The Intermixing
The gout of the mind is to intermix,
Gormandizing and realistically the feathers.
Homer sees in his eye the real food,
And writes as a poet who is blind.
The steady office of many are like the ears
Of the people, and the sight is from the eyes.
On this independent day I came with wending
And weaving angering the world with its woe.
Interrupt me never, never hiccup or wallop me,
For the scallops of your mind are brewing.
This is corrupt of your worship of my soul,
For the gallops render me false.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
