Old Age Plight Poem by Lopamudra Mishra

The boat she sailed together to built her canon,
now dear ones left her alone.
Silently weeps cursing her fate, accusing none.
The family of her own drifted to different paths
which is she never dared to relay on.
She is the same simple lady lass,
with a withered mask and faded sight,
walks shakingly if someone holds her hand tight.
Prays always near the almighty for the well being of her knight.
Her charming princes and princesses locked her inside,
which she accepted with a sombre smile!
Her tussled hair, flaky skin cries for a little care,
tendrils treated her as if she was never there.
Still she prays for them with a fumbled tone,
her choked voice unheard by them from the shell.
Babbles herself loud as if surrounded by crowded jail,
my heart bleeds with this pathetic sight,
decided to help and rescue her from their crunches tight.
Responded to my hopeful gesture,
she answered with a blooming smile,
this is the old age plight!
I pray to god that I will die with my near's sight.