Final Button Tired Bumped at the every doors Throats dry?

Come to me I can bring You Justice Great Just push The button Final At the end See how all are equal. Abdul Wahab Father's Take On Poetry Few lines From my head Perfectly rhymed Father said It is not a poem I changed course Next few I wrote Without rhyme Father said It s a prose What s makes a poem I was in deep thought And wrote on Some truths Like birth and death These smells Like gospels Poem is like foliage Of your heart Yellow Falls on your page With a sweet sound Of music on the ground He said. Abdul Wahab