Ageing Agonies

Skin has folded,

In sheets,

Wrinkles writing off,

The once-upon-a-time,

Nimble, agile text,

Hormones not in harmony,

Words come out,

From the depth of truth.

Civilization doesn’t need verity,

It masks in aesthetic ingenuity,

Asks me to hide my brown leaf,

Like a copied story,

With desperate colors,

Lying in layers,

O! why can’t I move free?

Of what use then is technology?

Is it a crime to be born before,

You made me a cell to rest in peace,

But for heavens sake, I want to live for sure,

I pray, give me the expertise.

What contradiction,

When the same you talks of the yore,

But neglect the living history,

Shove it as shame,

But my agony is my glory,

To make you accept me just as I am,

Is my only aim.

This world is good,

It includes,

More and more,

Different tales of people,

Abandoned in the yore,

I am yet to see on the stage,

Playing souls challenged by age.