The Map-Maker

I am a map-maker of high discernment,
I am an agent so absorbent,
The feelings attached to me created
This felony so wide and long aborted.

The maple tree outside is flung by the wind,
There are leaves on the ground thinned;
My staple diet is so well-known by the nation,
Eventually we are proud of none.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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