Thursday, June 28, 2012

Old age is this!

I am the Focus of the wheel
With many spokes born out of me
As the wheel moved faster and faster
The spokes disappeared in the air
I still stand here all rusted and worn
In the speed of life, spokes have no time to spare for my well being.

Left alone amongst the family
Not a soul here to talk with patience
Answers in haste and disgust
Even though I was patient with them
They have no time to spare
I wait to see if they could spare tears for me.