Problems Poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai

As thorns have chosen their flowers
Problems have chosen their hours.
All souls wear cares' dress
Some hide while some express.
Life is born in problems' hub
Whose taint you can never rub.
The newly born does raise cries
As if stung by tsetse flies.
Worries wire surrounds palaces
Anxious wind all walks traces.
Poor tensions live in huts
In restless sleep each eye shuts.
Problems exist there like sap in plant
Day and night on our heads haunt.
Problem is life, life problem
Whether mocking or solemn.