Old Age. Poem by Nabakishore Dash

Birth, growth, youth, senescence and death are cyclical in
every life span.
What happens after death
is full of strife, remains still unknown.

Forces man to use four eyes,
three legs and two minds.
Strength of all systems
and their speed lag behind.

The vertex becomes bald,
bright sun rays make it dazzle.
The hairs become silver,
teeth fall down,
the person mumbles.

Shiny lacquer of skin is lost,
filled with wrinkles all over.
Joints swell, pain is more,
going up and down the stairs
needs a helper and banister.

The heart has man-made valves,
the vessels have stents.
Knees are replaced, gait abnormal
spine is bent.

Bosoms undergo ptosis,
lose their beauty,
become saggy.
Despite those cosmetic changes,
old people are repertory of
experience and great savvy.

Senile dementia is a problem
in the evening of life of many.
Although not brawny,
struggle through
peaks and valleys of life
makes them pragmatic and brainy.