Sick, thin walking with stick,
Nothing to eat, thrown vittles she lick,
Stomach inside, the soul cries,
Crossing the roads, balance she tries,
Tears in her eyes, sombre lies,
Begging for belly, her heart shies...
She falls a several times,
But no one came on time...
Trying to crawl with a curvy bone,
Once, she also runs, that's all too gone,
Years ago she was a don,
But now she resides, outside the lawn,
On the footpath or under a tree,
Wherever she go, her life is free...
Nothing to think of she,
Long lasting pain she bears in knee...
Munching a apple half rotten,
About she, her child forgotten,
Lying in the dirt, she cries,
Dying for love and happiness she tries,
Thrown out of her own home,
Now, lonely she roam...
Rag, untidy clothes she wear,
No one to help her, as no dear...
Then came a traveler or a immortal,
Who took she, to her own hotel,
She gave food, she gave her love,
With the happiness, clothes she served,
The she sang the song for her,
The heart touching music that I never heard...
She turned my life,
From darkness to light...
May almighty bless you,
And make your future bright,
To make you always shine,
As on your face, smile always line,
Never you feel alone, are blessings mine,
Don't be sad, Yah I am all FINE...
Topic(s) of this poem: old age , spiritual
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