Pure Imagination

Pure imagination succumbed to the broadcasters,
They were not so sleepy in their prime computing;
The extra sense of sound and light bore evil
And more polite sport and more underneath this.
One superb thinker established the help of someone
To order the ideals and then animosity.

The swish and ripple of a good night was glad
Of us when we wore the barrels of guns
That spun handsomely to wash away the rainy blood.

In a determined effort to be first place,
A less calm night ensued and threatened the ideals
Of an idyllic philosopher and scholar
Residing in the head and heart.
Do not be mean to my top chieftain,
Do strengthen yourself with your new weapons
Of stretching and twisting.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!