At the Old Age

I was energetic like a running, galloping horse

Smart, quick, swift, and punctual all across

The young, adult, and middle ages of my life

And passed a happy life up around sixty-five

Never imagined of any disability or distress  

But now at sixty-seven gradually I could trace

I’m proceeding to the ages of distress, disability

Utter hopelessness, disease-prone, inactivity

Muscles, veins-arteries, bones, all are feeble

Compressed, stiff; limbs and organs inflexible

Nobody, including self, imagines at the young age

Such a state of affairs may arrive in some days

Most of the aged people are often neglected

Suffer physically and mentally being isolated

Nobody in the family hears or cares for them

The passing of days is the last gruesome game

Tears roll down silently is of nobody’s attention

Destined by fate to such an aged hapless person

Until God appears to the victim and puts to an end

All woes and sufferings to eternal peace, He sends

A few are lucky to have diet, medicines and escort

I’m one treated with love, care and untiring effort

But who can avoid the old age inability/inefficiency

Beyond the human capacity, it’s upon God’s mercy