A friend said 'We're in the sunset years'
And while we both laughed, the truth is quite sad.
We've reached the road that ends all joy and tears,
The finish line is near for the life we had.
Aching bones and weak limbs plague our days,
Eyesight grows blurred, we find it hard to hear.
Our mind seems to wander and we forget always,
Food's in the blender, but we feed our fears.
Sunset years indeed may spell our demise.
From cradle to rocking chairs, that's our fate.
With peace in our heart, the spirit will rise
Going home to heaven would be simply great!
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~~-9.01.16
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem