One Has Been Stung - Poem by Naveed Akram
Wringing one tone that closes
Then arises with a thought that arises,
It accuses me with its language
And bemoans upon the bed of baggage.
My adage is similar to the languishing satisfaction,
One bemoans and verily inherits the fraction
One commands with one's tongue,
The very same language of one stung.
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