The Wheel
Free us from the sphere that surrounds us,
A shape that haunts us and decides our living.
We wanted freedom of a different sort,
A face is contorted by this freedom
And changes it to liberty, the extreme sort.
We calculate the life that begins to radiate beauty,
And inside the sphere is a circle that is perfect,
A hidden quality always worthy and special.
A circle is not a three-sided shape,
But a special line of fortune.
We can never be triangular,
It makes no sense, but the wheel is all we need
To walk in freedom all over this Earth.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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