“There is a talk about you at the house, <br />Sit down for it is not a tale but a sad pity; <br />Your master is a liar, and you have no goal, <br />So happen like a lad of distress to gain pity, <br />Like the one lodged in the throat.” <br /> <br />At this snatch was a key to discussion, <br />For the master was a scoundrel always; <br />The master refused the lad and so innocence <br />Arrives, with queer things, queer ways, <br />Like the pity of a lifetime at the house. <br /> <br />“Flit out of doors so that you arrive, <br />Feeling able as you do, like a fine lad”; <br />The keys turn the door to alleviate the suffering <br />And then knowledge arrives to mock, <br />Feeling the fire of the mansion and everything.<br /><br />Naveed Akram<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/feel-like-talking-2/
