Crossing Forty: Youth Being Stolen --------------------------------------------------- The life seems strangely somewhat changed, I have just crossed the mark of fortieth year; How would it change to lead the coming days? So far I have enjoyed it a lot as a sporty cheer. I remind the day I was told that I was young, Years later, I see that my youth is being stolen; My broad chest has begun shrinking narrower, But previously it’d been prominently swollen. I could not notice how fast the time has run out, Now I can feel the increasing social pressure; It pains watching the gray hair on the temples, Now I realize that the life has been a fast racer. My muscular body has started to turn chubby, Its reflections are becoming day by day slow; Hair look half-vacated the head in the fast race, My skin seems to be afraid to lose its past glow. My strong and sturdy physique will be changed, With the time, it will be feeble and start to erode; Now few wrinkles are there to occur on my face, And they will force me to learn the veteran code. My growing weight openly alarms me of aging, And the dark pouches rise up just below the eyes; My mind is overloaded with lots of great plans, But relationships play the games of sad surprises. The responsibilities race fast to be done at first, And I helplessly stop to watch their fixed races; Every day the life teaches me a few bitter lessons, Revealing the naked truth of the disguised faces. Now I wish to lodge a report to the Almighty, That without my loved youth, I will be in strife; But I know the answer that God will give me, That the losing youth is the painful reality of life. A poem by Shailesh Kumar Mishra copyright2014@skm2274
Posted on: Sun, 02 Nov 2014 09:11:08 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015