A Result In Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Why most of the cases result in sadness?
Why doe it not represent some sort of gladness?
It is in fact fragrance of fine blend
It mast last forever and remain unbend

As the days and months go by
We forget the things and don’t try
It brings only grief and pain
Why all those year we wasted and went in vain?

You still pass on the blame
Al sincerity you owe and claim
What was your real aim?
Why do you allege now and frame?

You pushed me to forefront
I was not sore and bore the brunt
You dead all bad to me to malign
You were not meant to be serious to align

I was forced to become refugee
It made me weary and compelled to flee
I became salve and not free
You had uprooted complete tree

You sounded me to be alert
You were soon to scuttle and subvert
You could possible try and avert
You proved to be cunning and expert

You considered it as simple game
You brought it to low level with shame
You not only brought slur on my name
But dragged me unnecessarily to frame

This may be real game to bring discredit
It needs no firm efforts to edit
You can form it any time and remove very next
There no need to prepare very good text

I stand alone in the midst of desert
I can’t delet anything or insert
It is pure enraged life with shame
No good news at all finally came