My Secret Time

In secrecy my time is set and separate,
My little bags are four thousand,
Away from the date I spoke,
As it speaks to me as a secret.
But this did nothing, in an order,
As proof did exist and you consider
The fallacies so part of the story.
He could still keep a hundred ideas and facts
Together in a pot, it was not easy!
Two weeks later, the final nail was torn
From the fingers of pain and suffering.
My secrecy is providing aid to the distressed
As well as time for repair and renovation.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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