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Deep in love

Why I am so deep in love and called mad?
Why give people chance to call me mad?
Failure in love attempts and feel so sad,
Always get thrashing from kind dad,

It was not complicate but simple love,
Sailing on water like duck and dove,
Getting to know better of her but not to have,
Driving me crazy as she never forgave,

Was it simple attraction or infatuation?
Confronted many times but confused with question,
was I so desperate and running out of time?
Was it the only priority and my object prime?

I may not remain quiet and simply rest,
Earnest efforts with sincerity and follow with zest,
Leaving rest to luck and trying for best,
May be life wants some more crucial tests?

Will my dream come not true?
Ever I find answer or get it through?
Sincerely I hope to have success,
with relentless efforts and without recess,

what will happen if she buckles?
Under tremendous pressure and refuse
Add to the woes and make me to confuse,
what should I do to make the situation to defuse?

Neither I will fail nor succumb,
I will act wise and not act as dumb,
Life will be shattered as blast after bomb,
I will pray God and also visit dead people’s tomb
,
Is it sheer crime to love a person?
Do we blame rain if it comes without season?
Why do they unnecessarily malign?
Is it necessary to please them and align?

I see no reason behind their ire
Why do they object and openly fire?
I did nothing to molest her modesty
I just proposed her hand with honesty

May be it was not good as one sided affair
I was not unreasonable with approach or to be called liar
I had just dreamt of a life with beautiful partner
In love life it first initiative and was just beginner

I could not believe my own eyes
When she offered me glare with byes
I was little shocked wither refusal
She had invited me to discuss it oral

I prayed God to give her good sense
I had never behaved irresponsible or nonsense
It was sincere wish and strong desire
I was all out for her beauty and wished to admire

Those are unlucky who fail and not face,
without knowing what joy is there in losing the race,
they call others stupid and mad,
whom would you actually call good or bad?

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Added by Poetry Lover
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