THE OLD MAN

When the hunger to score ebbs away.
Memories of past bounce back today.
And the thought of afterlife bewilders what may.
When tears and smiles are scurrying as one all day.
And the world gets foggy day by day.

The hands once so solid are quivering these days.
The voice which once roared now trembles to the lowest pitch down the way.
Mirrors no more amuse me as they use to yesterday.
How can my own touch feel so bizarre – am I the foolish prey.

My knowledge and wisdom seems archaic in the present day.
My fellows left me lone on this way.
Can’t curse them too, it happened to their dismay.

Will I be remembered or forgotten?
Was I a warrior or just a subtle man?
Did I win or lost to me in the end?
It doesn’t matter – because now I am a different man.

I watch you all rushing to some grand aim.
Reminding of ME – and my pushy ways to gain.
You don’t notice me sitting here,
But one day my friend you too will be here.
Watching others rush – with their brand new flairs.

My wrinkles hold so much to tell;
Would you listen or discover yourself?
I am no preacher, oh no my friend I am just a withered man.
Waiting for his pious end.

THE END.