The wrinkled faces that radiate smiles,
The little eyes that twinkle all the time,
The impatience within just like a child-
As they grow old.
The hopes that don't die though their memories do,
Their bones become fragile but their wills stay adamant.
Every story that they tell is one that was never unleashed
They return love for the hate they are subjected to-
As they grow old.
They are longing for love more than they ever have,
It is time to reflect back at their life like they never had,
Their presence becoming oblivion to all,
They are idle and at rest,
They are waiting to rest forever-
As they grow old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem