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Poem

If, in my fate, it has already been written
That I shall be an enjoyer of my fifties
Pray,
I hope then
To have, at that time
A healthy state,
Both mentally and physically
Why
By then, it would matter not
If I am not as slim as I was when I was eighteen
It would matter not
If my hair looks not so brushed up or even so black
It would matter not
If quite a few wrinkles have made themselves seen
What would matter
Is whether I have grown in wisdom
Yes, whether I have attained the right maturity
As to forgive all those who hated me
As to give love to those who need it from me
As to share with the rest of the world, my own experience
So that the younger ones may feel inspired
And of course,
Whether I have worked hard and struggled
Towards the making of my dreams
Yes,
Right now, eyes closed,
A snug smile on my face
I see, in my mind, myself at fifty
And I see, a content lady
One most probably still single
For of the falsity of love, I have written enough about
I see, a lady, most probably childless
For in leaving in this world,
A remnant of myself
I had never had the slightest interest
I see a lady, though, who makes it her duty
To give to the world
Every precious gem that she treasures in her
So that each and every child may
Forget, at least, not even wonder about the complexity
And the meaninglessness of life
And do take the time to enjoy their being here!
Why,
At fifty
I shall most probably lose my beauty
My sex appeal
My body's elasticity
But then, I shall care not for these
For I shall be closer and closer still
To see for myself
Truth,
As I have versed so much about while still in my thirties!

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