Stick On Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Where is the time?
“To think about” self sometimes
We are lost in crowd
With noise so loud

We are speechless
With frown on face
We want things to happen
That is not materializing even

Where is place to sit?
And call lover to greet
Exchange few words of pleasantries
Alas! But over shadowed by mystery

Slums have their own history
Palace like towers are decorated with ivory
Rich have their own way of living
Poor are praying and only believing in miracles

The train shall never halt
It is not our fault
Time has only one track
“Stick on path” with all the stakes