The Song Of The Deserted Old Man Poem by Alexandrian Ink

Let the empty air bear my tell,
The muddywalls of my little shell;
If friends feign with crabbed age
Departing sans reck or little dotage
Of what my youthful days used to be,
Then, mine children should not like them flee.
But, if they with friends are the same,
Then, sing I the ditties, for my days are lame.

Old age is a blessing, but a curse,
A curse, if there is no one who cares
To laugh with you, or jest at your leisure,
To stand by you, or answer your best pleasure.
Better remain in celibacy than bear barren children
Be single from youth than age with reckless brethren;
For, love which we most expected, is most rejected
Precisely, when black calls the pot, the aged is deserted.

Till the world end, contentment will remain
And in my state do I greatly rejoice and fain
As no one will defy or steal my joy away,
I bless my children wherever they are this day;
May the gods protect, guide and shelter them,
Bless them, safeguard them against every harm,
Peace be with them, as there is no enemy hither
Although, only but hunger and rough weather.

Ali Alexon

Dec.16 2017