Bored And Absent
But people bored him in abstinence,
Never did quakes be jolly,
Not in the slightest, not in the slightest.
My improvement stems from too much lager,
Hunting the brain, keeping the rings
Allowed to some for wearing and tearing.
But people have minute requests,
In the offering, in the famous sayings,
That many have found vile, like the devil.
My interior shall haunt the questioner,
And the inquisitor of the late life,
Love has entered once again to be absent
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Comments about this poem (Bored And Absent by Naveed Akram )
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