Psalm of The Oldman
My powers have started to decrease
I passed half of my life
From gift and longing with mixed spirit
A face built by God, made of clay.
A wrinkle came up under my eyelids
I said hello we became friends
A longing through youth drives us away
And I scold her when she wishpers about my girlfriend.
I have powerlessness from now on white hair
I gathered my years in a bead
“You are young-still”, whispers my self chestnuts
Beautiful young just like handsome.
I pray God for my early death
I want to take leave from life
I have already climbed the old age
Facing so many obstacles in my path.
© Manoj Kumar Panda
Ada, Balasore, odisha, India
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