Poemish.Com

Building With Bricks

Bricks collide with mortar to produce me,
I am a house or a mansion or a bricklayer.
The outward form that persists connects
And I fit secondary measures into a drama.
Bricks are solid as weights of signals,
Radio has appealing times for us all.
They sound like the rain and snow,
Wind and wetness shall reign supreme.
Why do heavy words collect a meaning
That understand a problem of the pen?
My actions are limited for their bricks
Build new towers looming in our direction.
This brick contains many stones of contrast,
Heaven awaits those bricklayers who are called Builders.

© Naveed Akram