Call Me Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

I cry for nothing
As it has caused me something
I am what I am supposed to be
Like fruits laden on tree

Call me
As I am free
By any name
I have no shame

You have used me as toy
Employed all sorts of decoy
Made me means to enjoy
As you wanted me for joy

I know it is my body
That is not liked by anybody
Yet you are after to have it
I shall not refuse as it certainly fits

Not with your ideology or mine
But it can be defined as fine
It is our wish and desire
I shall and may put it on fire

I shall surrender
For, you are not offenders
The age is tender
It is call of gender

No one has escaped
Yet vanity is caped
Hidden from vultures
As it is my golden future

I shall hold the key
To look fine as honey
I shall open cards gently
As you may accept me readily

I have no room to complain
Even if it gives me pain
I am normal human being
I must praise self and sing

I shall think of no result
As I am not afraid of insult
I am committed fully to the cause
As it is me and me only of course