AN OLD MAN’S WISH

AN OLD MAN’S WISH


O Death, come thou to me fast;
No more do I wish to last.

I have been here long enough;
Now life is really tough.

Aching joints and shaking hand,
Without support I can’t stand.

Shabby dress and uncouth face,
I live a life without grace.

There is none to visit me,
Lonely is my destiny.

Thinking of those who are gone,
To depression, I am prone.

My children don’t write letters;
Their time not for such matters.

Though it’s a home for the old,
It’s more like a prison cold.

One year more if I remain,
I will be fully insane.

To help me out there is none,
You are the hope, only one.

O Death, come thou to me fast;
No more do I wish to last.


* Written in aa 7-7 format


M C Gupta
30 June 2003