Prizes

Given, lost and stolen, the prize of women is the past,
History strikes their sacrifices, held by some who last.
The good and anxious are wordy of earth’s wonder,
Fixing ultimate achievements, feathering the feet of a headmaster.
School should be fast, well-understood, as living is tough
And lives are made by the divine for they are blessed not rough.
The lawful lasses and the lads of tomorrow shall collect,
In a frenzy work will profit then subside like the waves that connect.
We are from women and gentlemen who understand what is fair;
Inside, we do care as destruction looms, as fools are in the air.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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