My Life Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

My life

I think it as hollow
But allow
My fancy
To fly

It goes all over
But find no cover
No logic and no background
But something has to be found

People are same
But still we play games
Games of hatred and jealousy
Still we remain happy

There is no other go
Even if we blow
Own trumpet with happiness
Time looks like simple pass

The journey seems fruitless
As it finds
Only ups and down
The tragedies are known

I got to live
And believe
In futility of human life
As it makes me to walk on edge of knife