In the mirror I see myself,
There are wrinkles around my eyes,
My black locks are no more black,
They appear like salt on pepper balls.
I squeeze my eyes to try to read,
And search for my glasses – here and there,
Quite often I ask my family,
The same question again and again.
Small things appear much smaller,
Also I try hard to listen something,
Every morning I write my to-do list,
Yet I find myself doing nothing.
Some days I am left alone –
Other days, I am alone at home,
Every day I am told –
That I am getting old.
Yet in my dreams
I relive my old days.
Once when I was young,
And my spirits were high.
Time has changed everything
My people have changed sorely.
No wonders, every day I am told –
That I am getting old
Ah, this made me both smile and sigh. Your realizations comes through in small details. Wrinkles, changing hair color, challenging eyesight, all forgetting things are changes we readers can identify with. Perhaps not all of us can identify with the loneliness, or maybe we just won’t acknowledge it. Your insight makes that realization a bit easier to handle. The stanza about your dreams of youth brings great hope, so the final stanza directly after it becomes even more poignant. I enjoyed reading this both silently and aloud. Fine poem!