Never Soothe You Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Love is like spring season
It has to blossom but with reasons
The season may want her to show color
With full dignity and honor

It is natural to feel
The colors fill
Your life with change
That is wanted by an age

As sun goes up in sky
As the birds soar and fly
You too think and feel shy
So everybody sincerely think and try

If you fail to seize
And remain behind chase
The love may not reappear
Resulting in dejection to bear

If you think fruitlessly
And dream unrealistically
The situation may not change
The tragic story shall appear on page

Had this happened earlier?
Or had you been near
Shall never soothe you ever
Feel no sore but brace up for future