Minor Hazards

Fade into minor hazards outside our hills,
Where I happen to be in trouble from the wolves.
Happen then - wolves must describe the levers of pain,
I am crucified by them if they come near.
Outside our hills are many wondrous creatures -
They are illegal to the sight and touch,
At most a leaver must keep question
And a new supper for them who eat.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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