The handler is a maiden with an aneurysm;
Bend her neck, swipe the claws at her shoulder!
Win glances from the public if there is misery,
Little do they tell of the disgrace that manned our ports.
My mild military sentence endeavours to charm
Those with aneurysms, that swing from the arms
As they embrace the willing surfers of the woods
And the forests tame the deer with blood and gore.
The handled beasts persuade a little matter with policies,
To let them loose is gifted of those with spirits to entrance
Those with them now, engagements are postponed
As my mild military nature creates stench and morons.
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Comments about this poem (Mild Handling by Naveed Akram )
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