It Delights Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

It delights

Lie spreads
Truth reads
And counts dead
Where to go and plead?

Who will listen to?
When truth is spoken through
Falling tears and holding feet
You are insulted and given kick

It makes you rebel
And tell
Openly to world
We are poor but no coward

If you hear a word
It is fine to look forward
If not
We shall fight

Lies may be form of present art
But we are part
To some degrees it is alright
But truth always shines and delights