Ill Gotten Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

I was puzzled at misery
And suffered under poverty
Father and mother used to worry so much
I was so sore to see them as such

I used to cry in corner
To bring some pleasure
To ailing and aged parents
It was really "do or die" moment

But I was encouraged
To read more and manage
With strong resolve to anchor at port
The fighting spirit within was real art

I was sure to do better
And offer
Real happiness
Parents realized this on the face

I was soon turned into airman
Real tough and fine human
The path was now open to go up
The poverty was no more hurdle or trap

Yes, I enjoyed in pain
But maintained
Same distance with ill gotten money
Today I am blessed comfortably by an almighty