by Akram Saqib

Created on: June 14, 2009   Last Updated: November 21, 2011

O the poet, the sensitive fellow
Minister of lyrics, sweet and mellow

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

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

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

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?

He grew old in such circumstances
That had not afford much instances
To become rich and opulent
Even opportunity was opponent

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

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

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