<≪ The Game In A Name Poem by Abdul Wahab

We are all in a position of standing
And our weights are on our toes
Facing an open sea
Vast and wide
Made up of people
We call it multitude or crowd
And waiting for opportunity to come swimming
Like a fish in our little drains and alleys
And we are ready, too,
To hunt the taste
And dive into immortal fame
But when the game turns into a race
And the race becomes fierce
We remain friends but only in namesake
and left with I, me and myself
Along with our sweet name
And try too hard
to make it a brand,
Everlasting,
A brand of high value
To be remembered and cherished
For the time to come by all.