What allures my senses?
/for a dear colleague, Anees/ Listen to this song while reading Is it the strength of her voice or the depth of her baritone Baked in humility. When she looks, her eyes reflect A question, she cannot ask. She speaks not from the tip of her tongue but from the Bottom of her gut It is laced with a nobleness, as soft as the handwoven clothes she drapes But none see it for their senses are veiled With the loudspeaker of a blaring noise That only deafens their conscience and Mimics nincompoops