Who Am I?

A bleary friend is seen through my eyes,
To be exact we derive a bleary eye;
Be able of this moment, be the command of liberty.
From liberal measures the abandonment of the eyes
Comes to taste, and sight has reached memory.
Maybe the sight is attractive, although polite
By the hours, goodness knows what!
Braiding the hours with skill is using sight,
Prefect of the senses, louder than words.
A bleary man is the size of my design,
I now see this concerning picture of a man who knows
Who I am. Who I am.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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