The first man I met in the morning
Was old, sitting at the door, yawning
As I went for my morning walk
I saw his fragile figure, thin and dark
Once strong, agile, glowing human
Now wrinkled, shrinked, aged  man
Done his duties, fought his battle
Tired, withered, dry eyes, shriveledÂ
Faced hardships, struggled, battered heart
Slippers at side, thinking for long
“Will my children take me along?
My body is aching, as if falling apart,
vigor and strength of bones depart
I have a stone where once I had a heart
I may be alone, aloof, shaky and bit sadÂ
Inside this old carcass, still a young lad !!!”
 I met this luckiest old man, there he sat.
8 Responses
Well said and a wonderful picture, too.
Have I told you before that I was scared of getting old initially. Now of course I have started accepting the truth. The change took place when I started observing how my parents got old year after another. I want them to be strong and fit till they live. It is difficult to see them looking for support who supported you throughout life.
The photo says so much. He has seen life, made experiences and now sits and observes and is perhaps waiting for something, who knows.
Yes, you said exactly what I thought of his mental state. He looks content, at peace or may be restless and sad, who knows.
Cool photo and poem – very well done – but a side note is thatched actually looks strong and vibrant to me – guess I recently saw a few old American men who are in rough shape – one with a cane and big med list and whines – ha! And so to me – this guy sitting here – with such flexibility and soft lines had a vibrant feel with years to come – and really good post
I’m humbled. Your kind words are much appreciated. Keep visiting for more such interactions and thanks for the follow.
Thanks and I almost did not leave a message – and glad to connect via blog – have a great weekend
your “old man” picture and poem are the perfect close for this visit to your blog. I am so glad that I found this blog…your photos are gorgeous and so full of meaning. 🙂