Age finally catches up
It is there with you like your skin
It is your skin indeed
And then there is tiredness
An enervating weariness
And then troubled sleep
Wearing off in the silence
Of a dark three a.m. dawn
With nothing to do.
They say 'Old is Gold.' Old is the sign of wisdom and the period of maturity. Old can do wonders and can lead the young in the right path. Duties are not one but many for the old, who feels young in the company of young. I am also too old to write this. Am I correct, Uday?
Nice new additions Uday.However my observation is that your recent poems are quite sentimental, pondering a lot on the natural process of ageing.I guess the death of a parent does make one ponder on mortality, that little nagging voice in our minds that says we have moved one step up the ladder, closer to our own end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. Such a nice poem, Uday B. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks