Slave

About the boasts we tame a few,
Boasting corrupts us like devastation.
Visible pages with inscriptions describe
The endings and derivations that matter.
My owners boast for my slavery to be redressed,
Boosting this commands freedom, joy and hope.
We are slaves, they are masters,
Fixing this assertion, blowing a drama,
Finding some drama is like some illustration.
The boasting of liberty is mine now,
My slavery adjusted the peace.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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