Here's a poem I wrote just now for you to look at and judge whether I'm fit for you or not.
The minute of reconcile
The perturbed deep poetry from the inside
Laid on thin paper; breakable
As to rhyme and maybe harsh shine
Pardon me harsh life; I see you're an enemy, truly
If so, succumbing is not my heal
But to raise an arm when in pain, and lift the emotions out of self loathing
I raised a being; a human
With his arms, bones and clay
And what bes a form
Yet is tis the true norm
Of our lives
Yet is tis the true way of living in a human life
Yet who am I ?
And I raised that
And I lived by that
Years to come by; such that now I'm 24 years old
And I've still not realized
What God be, what this Earth be
To us humans; it's a loss because we didn't live life in accordance to the board as prescribed
Here on, we're helpless and breathless
Of God's pure gift; we need tis
The Holy, and what's in term, Holy truly, the mercy to the heart of a safe line to live by; with that of God; the dear book Quran