I know, I grow old, I grow old…. As silver threads peek in my head. The flush on radiant cheeks wanes, And a pallid tint creeps unseen. Fading years have robbed the ardour, And a rigid sobriety sinks and settles. With EXPENSIVE health gadgets I cannot bring back my lost youth. I hear the howl of autumn winds, That come to shake off the yellowing leaves. Dragging tired feet through pavements I try in vain to keep pace with the young. Mind grows agitated and distressed As the bones beneath the skin go brittle. I drag myself with BRUISE in mind and body Like a rusted machine never overhauled. The soul grows anxious and annoyed, With no CONVINCING solutions to track.......! There is a tumult in my silence Like the undercurrents of calm waters. Through miles on dreary miles of gloom That stretch out before the eyes, endless, Where can I find a quiet haven To lower my burden and rest awhile?
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