Why Am I Old?
When he was growing young,
Always comes in and stands,
Front of a mirror,
Watches his face and combs hairs.
Cares for his clothes,
Cares when he walks,
Takes notice when someone,
Likes to speak him.
Time never remains silent,
At last someone chose him,
Responsibility came to him,
Children and home was his dream.
One day come when he was so busy,
Forget to see his face again,
Never find a time to comb his hairs,
Sometimes he forgets something to eat.
Why life is so short,
I were quiet young yesterday,
What happened to me?
Why am I feeling old?
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