A Sixth Ton - Poem by Hasmukhlal Amathalallal
I stood half way with so much satisfaction
New scales were reached to generate lot of excitation
How could one ordinary man achieve poetry feet?
Was it not a simple occasion to wait and greet?
It has become routine now to count in numbers
It brought me to required level among members
It may reach many more hundreds in coming days
Many hurdles still there to be cleared on the way
“Story teller or novice” is fixed on my name
How it looks nice and beautiful when I claim?
Thoughts just creep in mind and I simply rename
Inter weave nicely with delicacy and frame
Is it final stop or beginning of new leaf?
Do I need fresh lease or an extra brief?
It is process of finding new refuge
The task is not difficult but very huge
I may not stand to gain at first stroke
It may vanish in the guise of thick smoke
I shall act as an ordinary and humble
The fame is momentary like water bubble
I shall be lost in crowd and never regain
It should not be seized with or refrain
No do or die situation in the holy task
Cool from outside but hot to remain in flask
What if I go on writing in the natural style?
Will it be stumbling block for a while?
Will it find a favor with reader friends?
Will it ring a death bell or bring to an end?
All mixed feelings and still to fear
Fine composition and smile to wear
Words to be soaked in style with tears
Sorrows and agony to self always bear
What I could give to millions who need?
Only words with deep feelings to read
It shall be deemed worthy if I can feed?
Best possible way to find a place and lead
I am not in position to express my deepest gratitude
I want to be placed at the bottom with my attitude
How sky can be measured with its altitude?
All are humble and can’t afford to be tough and rude
I wish to stand among all having entity as poet
Normal writings with ideas so specific and quiet
I may find its worth in coming days at any rate
Luck sometimes smile and annul the work of fate
I love to b part of small globe
Awakening of conscience without any probe
It may lead me to a place where I should be
Well wisher and friend with views to express free
Comments about A Sixth Ton by Hasmukhlal Amathalallal
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye