All four had made similarities for the future,
All four made arts out of sciences,
Their students charmed with the crudest ideas.
Some professors warmly disembowel
Their larks, swiftly bringing in news of a cast
Folding the plastic or jewels or cement or metal.
Calibration was battling with batteries of hard
Gases revolving in a tin can of low law.
Celebrate with celibate gentlemen now that you spin.
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Comments about this poem (All Four by Naveed Akram )
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