The Voice Of An Old Man Poem by Godspower Oshodin

An old winny smile, graving my face
a thought of prepoutrous calling, trying to lace
i wade through this tunnel, with the mimic of smile
slow and steady this long miles.
how many times my moment with a look
faded times this crampy journey i took.
a soft unusual touch from sleep
at this moment, might scanning to leap.
i murmur silently at ease
with a loud faking noise, trembling, but cease.
with a dark hue head, now at grey
old age is coming, i say.

I'm tired of sitting with the cloud
it visage is not calling, and it's giving no sound
grimmed, by a physical touch from the wind
howl and spread free. Behind,
an empty vacuum, which has no call for mortal.
for dust, in vain wait for me
my eyes to the soonest grave i see.
a million times now my heart sway
to the dim of this six feet where i will make way.
my youthfulness and vigor is gone
an old fairy way for death has come.
soon it shall touch me, and claim
now it pursue me to this immortal frame.