Aug 2016
In the mirror I see myself,
There are wrinkles around my eyes,
My black locks are no more black,
They appear like salt on pepper *****.
I squeeze my eyes to try to read,
And search for my glasses - here and there,
Quite often I ask my family,
The same question again and again.
Small things appear much smaller,
Also I try hard to listen something,
Every morning I write my to-do list,
Yet I find myself doing nothing.
Some days I am left alone –
Other days, I am alone at home,
Every day I am told –
That I am getting old.
Yet in my dreams
I relive my old days.
Once when I was young,
And my spirits were high.
Time has changed everything
My people have changed sorely.
No wonders, every day I am told –
That I am getting old!
There are wrinkles around my eyes,
My black locks are no more black,
They appear like salt on pepper *****.
I squeeze my eyes to try to read,
And search for my glasses - here and there,
Quite often I ask my family,
The same question again and again.
Small things appear much smaller,
Also I try hard to listen something,
Every morning I write my to-do list,
Yet I find myself doing nothing.
Some days I am left alone –
Other days, I am alone at home,
Every day I am told –
That I am getting old.
Yet in my dreams
I relive my old days.
Once when I was young,
And my spirits were high.
Time has changed everything
My people have changed sorely.
No wonders, every day I am told –
That I am getting old!
Getting old is a phase of life. It should be accepted gracefully by a person. But more than that it needs to be accepted by his or her loved ones. We all will age with time - before or after doesn't matter. But what really matters is the support of family and children for the older people. It is a cycle of life. I wrote this poem assuming myself getting old.
