My Love Book Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

My love book

I have suffered on many counts
And received wounds
Wounds of no permanent cure
But only pain to endure

Whoever tried to come?
I always welcomed
With trust and faith
Not to break till the death

Each one tried o black mail
As if I failed
In anticipation
For building relation

I have been wronged
Instead of making me strong in resolve
They pushed me to troubles
And deserted in jungle

So I shall now have another look
No more crooks
In my love book
Oh god! How many unaccounted things I took