He has a fighting-chance of working with his figment, <br />The figment he remembers for all his long-term memory. <br />A field of ingoing thoughts waits to be proclaimed, <br />The jeep of all worries is in his whole span of life. <br />The jaws of youth were closed and it felt like a jaunt <br />That carried from noisome events, stupid occasions, <br />The nocturnal ideas indicated new options of disgust. <br />By the off chance, a thought collected to straighten, <br />But it turned out that the figment was reddening his face. <br />The figment of imagination, an officious training of the mind, <br />Protected him as if, and one day felt like a bird’s rectrix, <br />For the imagination was given revenge afterwards. <br />The reuse of the thoughts gained pace, speeded up, <br />And returfed the spectrum of thought called the Mind.<br /><br />Naveed Akram<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fighting-chance/
