Flummoxed

I have flummoxed the description of thoughts
That the painting established by pasting my own;
I chuck like a knock my fist at the clock of ringing,
Time innovates its executants who hew the place.

This contentious affair reminds me of the niece
Of activity, which has been admired by the clock;
Her gendarme accompanies her pronunciation,
As words rush like a crowd into the street.

I must outwit her in all she does as a larcenist;
Her words sprang from a redolent odour.
This mania is obliterated by the policies,
My description has a skill too fast and sufficient.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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