FEARING OLD AGE
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Loading ...He looked really old, though his eyes shone
His structure was weak, only skin and bone
He walked with a stoop, with li’l short steps
In this huge world of people, he looked alone
What must he be thinking, what is his hope?
Does he even bathe, let alone shampoo or soap?
What drives him on, he seems to have nothing?
In this violent harsh world, how will he cope?
Looking at him, my thoughts turned to me
I too will turn old, like animal, bird or tree
Will I manage well, or will I be miserable
Will I keep wondering “to be or not to be”?
Old age comes to all of us, will we be helpless too?
Will people care for us, will others behave true?
As eyes dull and ears dim, the world will want less of us
Our own friends and relatives will soon be far and few
Hope springs eternal, in the human breast, they say,
The only way in life, is to hope, pray, live for the day
When all is said and done, let us hope we leave back,
Feelings, memories, gaiety, and no more dues to pay.
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poets will never get old…ha ha ha….even if we pray or do not pray old age is certain and ultimate death….well written
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