Threads

The threads are collected, my art is this,
For the beating of our brain.
I hastily chase the boxes of string
To finally attach these threads,
They are harming my head,
But the problems are getting solved.
The hassle is enormous and banned by most,
But my stringing is the one solution.
They are normally quiet, sounds are collected,
But the threading is managed by me.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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