Gone Poems: 72 / 500

On His Eightieth Birthday

Rating: 2.8

To my ninth decade I have tottered on,
And no soft arm bends now my steps to steady;
She, who once led me where she would, is gone,
So when he calls me, Death shall find me ready.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Rajnish Manga 08 September 2018

The poem gives an inside view of an old man's desperate mind. A very emotional write. Thanks.

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