Clothing

Let them dry their clothes
As fresh as ripe fruit.
Wear them both even in deathblows,
Clothes are supreme as fruit and absolute.
Let the clothes bespeak the teeth
And read our sentence.
Why do cares become a wreath?
When do we read with abundance?

The attire is an abhorrence whenever
We try on new thoughts and then endeavour.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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