Not in presence of the mind I can e'er know thee,
by Naveed Khalid
Past woe made new by old day's rhetoric,
That I can still see Oldman sitting on the bench;
Whiling away his time with children in the park,
Unlike my Father in whom I find no match,
Silence reigns o'er Him to ending doom of poetry!
What needst I but to fight against all odds, all vicissitudes of the sky,
The star in dismal shades hath rent thy solemn mien;
Else season's breath in melting snow, so cold and gray,
Love's woeful song of thy fair lamb in November,
Of looks so awry to witness beauty in summer's prime.
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Date Created: Thursday, April 24,2014 4: 32: 56 PM