I Write... Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

How badly a poet feels when his articles go unread?
Get no cooperation from fellow poets for further lead
How narrow interest has shadowed the real talent?
Old poets did so much but today we can only resent

There may be many reasons and probably the time factor
Who has the time to come out in and see the moon in sector?
The moon, stars, and sky have permanence in feature
So nothing to look at them as they don't make our future

What do we find when look at some of the creations?
Lot of confusion with innumerable questions
I find hard going with concept and logic behind
Even so much eagerness on their part but approach very unkind

I blame none but changing scenes
No one can exactly predict and prefer to be seen
Even though they may be interested and very keen
The confinement nature hunts mind or appears to have been

Poet may go on writing but may not find favor
Not that those articles are bad or find no natural flavor
Still some of the poets may go out of the way and appreciate
This gesture somewhat appears to be managing and relate

I would love if little time is spared for emerging poets
They come with full force but find no favor and then remain quiet
It is like river flow in monsoon when in spate
Nothing is sure about and left everything to fate

If stage is decorated for the performance of the artists
And find is no audience to clap each one among the lists
Then no one may dare and ever attempt for another show
The movement comes to standstill and restricts the flow

The creations may certainly find favor if not day then tomorrow
Yet mind should not disturbed and released free or allowed
There is substance in it and it may pull magnetic way
Sun may shine again and find the promising rays

I write with no reservation or wait for applaud
The work itself may speak in volume and very loud
Ears may refuse to believe when one day you may find surprises
The world may clap over your achievements and suddenly rise