Creation Of Unkind God Poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma

I love my life but lanes are not simple,
And believe that it must not have dimple.
A self unsound and hurt conscience tie it,
That covers life worse than appear fit.

I love my self and soul;
Whose grand delight and sorrow,
Are lost in this existence, foul;
And pass the days to next morrow.

And mile away all serenity,
All experience worth not peeping,
No laughter all weeping,
A conscience hurt and un-steady;
And always spirited and ready.

Life never changes with event.
But get cold compliments,
Poor principles work out,
Acts of charity but all doubt.

Left high and dry to my own affairs,
Chase its own joys and cares,
Creation of the toil which God begun,
Is left without love and care undone.

I am also a human not made of wood,
Created like any other hood,
But cheated by my self and bone,
And left to fend lone,
But still true to all and false to none.