Saturday, June 9, 2012

The Youth of Old Age

Chipping of the nails, the worn off skin,
the smile of impending rebirth, resonating the time which ran by like round tin rumbling down on the steep road.
The worn off smile with which you wont be akin. You wont be akin to the duck she earned in life.
She was a happy duckling once,
sitting besides her piano dancing on the life's sync. The high notes deserted her and
she dragged the doom with her.
In the romance of the resonance, she kept quiet.
She chose to grow with nothing but herself. Celebrating liveliness.
Coming together with lifelessness, coming apart from colors
the drooping sunflowers.
She is entangled in the remaining crystal clear threads.
At fifty-five today, she too had a once upon a time.

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