Future Embarrassment Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

I was poor
But not a miser
I struggled to meet two ends
But we remained true lover and friends

You had mad craze
And always presented face
For wealthy trend
I was nowhere near that end

Even though you loved me from heart
I knew I was deceptive art
You were alive from your bottom
You preferred me seldom

I was not desperate
But very much considerate
I wanted to give everything
That you looked for something

We had no meeting found
She was very much fond
I could not gather ground
In such way, I lost the ground

I will not curse poverty
But thank an almighty
Who saved me from future embarrassment?
And allowed peaceful settlement