Truck
Truck ponders on its rust and grenades,
Crackling wheels surround kinetic roads.
Inside the buried name of crawling words
Hits flesh with flesh - the road is at end!
The parabola was twisting the scene,
Drags as themselves were masterful;
Twisting and creaking, the metal of
This code took contours at the leisure.
My mouth is glum towards the very dark lad,
The lad who highly recommends me to stay put.
I watched and learned of mania at the buses,
Buses carried on regardless, justice was the chief!
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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