Over The Hill Poem by Nikunj Sharma

The old must make way for new;
A rule known to all, understood by few.
Old memories and habits, hard to shed;
As one lives with them, till he is dead.

Old he was, the lion king;
The whole jungle once was his ring.
He ruled every inch till the day;
It was time to make way.

The young one was belligerent;
Soaring, aspiring and recalcitrant.
Ready to challenge and grab the throne;
With his howl he shook old bone.

Reluctant old tried his best
Young aspirations couldn't be put to rest
So he made way, finally
For the new king smilingly

That's the rule, rule of the game;
The old should accept without shame.
You should know you are over the hill;
When your mind makes a promise;
Your body can't fill.