Real Fruit Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

It is not supposed to put anything
As it is proved beyond doubt for everything
Honesty has remained for name sake
Where no one is allowed to come forward to stake

It stands for reservation of the fake
They eat with the both hands sweet cake
Still their stomach is empty
This is the world today created by almighty

We have created nuisance
Why to sight or quote for instance?
Everyone is to be scared and feared off
There is last reason for it to laugh

We have heard king is killed by son
To take over kingdom for no reason
Son has killed a father for inheritance
Even though it was to come by chance

Still there is lot more in store for hope
Many small actors perform non stop
One rickshaw man handed over bag this morning
Full of money but without tag with disregard to warning

Their noble work goes unnoticed
Yet it shows future with promises
May be here and there some misses
Yet humanity survives with some of the traces

What a satisfaction one enjoys?
When real owner goes back with joy
With his belonging as matter of hard earned labor
What a pleasure and blessings come out with honor?

Who will know the real fruit of such acts?
It may go unsung yet it may be remembered as fact
People shall appreciate always one single act with example
This is how we have come off with humanism after long struggle