A man may strive with all his strength and care,
To shape his bride with gentle, guiding hand.
He speaks with hope, yet finds she's unaware,
His words like footprints washed from softest sand.
He holds his peace through countless weary days,
Believing love alone might mend her ways.
But still she walks along her chosen maze,
Unaffected by his pleading gaze.
He learns at last — though slow the truth may be —
That hearts must turn by will, not force or plea.
No wisdom, rule, nor passion's earnest cry,
Can teach a soul who doesn't choose to see.
For change begins where self-awareness grows,
And only she may bloom from what she knows.
Dr. Shahzada Imtiaz Ali
19th June 2025.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem