Youth and Old Age

 

Old age is the stage when one hankers not after luxurious goods

But only harbours the hope of hearing a few sweet words

Alas, the fulfilment of this wish often remains elusive

For the youth of the day have their own life to live

For us the ancients, they have little of no time to spare

So conversations with them becomes ever so rare

We the dull oldies are woefully ignorant of the current in thing

Hence, in the eyes of the smarties, we are simply nothing.

 

Our eager queries seldom fetch in reply not more than a monosyllable

We unnecessarily talk to them they think, because we have no work, we are idle

Our words of advice, (if we dare give it) fall on deaf ears

They are sure they are mature beyond their years

Every poser is answered after a long pause, maybe to curb our urge to talk more

Fearing our insipid chat?

Our normal talk is to them a source of irritation

For which we fail to see any rhyme or reason

The best way therefore is to keep mum

Taking in our stride their every fancy and whim.

 

This indifferent attitude of theirs is sometimes hard to endure

But they still love us about which we are very sure.

 

 

Published in ‘Harmony’, June 2008