My Manners

I have a manner too superior to yours,
It encases my soul with purity and laws;
Stupendous exertions are controlled of course,
As the leaning of the head is considered too coarse.
The justice of the look is of the very same,
We contract the muscles for the shame,
We see him in daylight and night,
Seeing him is too much delight.
We need a sentence to recite and read,
For my soul accuses others to lead.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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