A Busy Day; They Are All Alike.

There is cold weather embedded,
In the hearts of people,
I keep busy in covering them
With patches of bright sunshine;
I am busy in making an ocean
From a small, neglected wave
Deep within the realm of memory.
I am busier in
Bringing near me, all those days,
Who still are lying in corners of ruins;
Which once I called my wishes.
Where I live is a place, deserted,
There I’m trying to build a city, a dwelling.
Deep within the valley of dreams,
And in the eyes, is a dream I dreamt,
I busy myself in making that dream
Come true.

by Dr. Afaq A. Qureshi

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