Age Page

The page of Age
flip fast when we’re happy;
flip slowly when we’re sad;
but pages flip and open chapters
until the last few pages
of the last chapter remain,
and that’s the time
we rub our eyes; clean lenses;
we look up, then bring our glasses
near and far,
to ensure that our vision is clearer;
but all in vain; all in vain;
we feel the creases of our skin;
we look at our hair,
sometimes here; sometimes there;
feel the sparse or the bald;
then open our mouth to check
whether there’s a tooth,
which is about to fall,
or how we'd look without denture;
it’s then when we give a call
to a dear one to bring the album
and sit with us;
to show them how we looked:
but then the dear one slyly slips away
‘coz you have the time, not they,
at least not for you;
making you realize that you’re spent;
more so if you’re a dependent;
and God forbid, if you’re sick
you’re a burden;
and, if you’re bedridden then….
you better go:
the sooner, the better
for nears and dears.
Time is too precious
to be wasted in a clinic or crematorium;
so take the flowers;
take the fire; turn to ashes;
or let dust
press your lids and lashes;
that’s how you, the once most wanted
become the most unwanted;
that’s how it goes
till the end dear friend!!
I know it hurts
but then you’re too frail,
too expended to react;
so let the days pass,
so let the last days pass,
as they pass,
let them pass,
until you pass,
yes, pass-away..