Miss More Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

I look back and feel sad
How many of my friends are dead?
I count many in recent years
"Many are in row "I fear

It is said" old time people were kind
Frank, straightforward and mild
I smelt real fragrance in their behavior
Each spoken word was with weigh and honor

Even school teachers were our real guide
They were always ready to provide
Any direction that was needed to move
They always rescue us and proved

Why am I saying this?
They were to me like morning bliss
Each day I feel their blessings
I feel in me something missing

Parents, no doubt, are missed more
But friends were not less adored
They were full of love and affection
I miss each moment heir close association