O the poet, the sensitive fellow
Minister of lyrics, sweet and mellow
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Seer for young and peer for old
Painter of moon and the sun gold
You depicted the worlds unseen
Shapes of people with brush keen
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Have you ever tried to take a look?
On dry tears that made a hook
Those blind eyes wanting in sight
Deprived of every single birth right
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In this world of lust and wealth
Are ever sick deprived of health
Have you tried to ever cast
A cursory look at his past
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Was he not like that child?
Who was tender innocent and mild?
Who grew old with silver spoon?
Who was able to play with moon?
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He grew old in such circumstances
That had not afford much instances
To become rich and opulent
Even opportunity was opponent
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Or his cast color and creed
Oblige him to be inferior breed
Or his nationality makes him so
That he is living only to bow
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Look around please and write something
That could toll and in the ears ring
Those who have monopolized earth
And are hungry to snatch mirth
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
akram saqib
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-humble-request/
