In the mirror I see myself,

There are wrinkles around my eyes,

My black locks are no more black,

They appear like salt on pepper balls.

I squeeze my eyes and try to read,

And search for my glasses - here and there,

Quite often I ask my family,

The same question again and again.

Small things appear much smaller,

Also I try hard to hear things,

Every morning I write my to-do list,

Yet I find myself doing nothing.

Some days I am left alone –

Other days, I am alone at home,

Every day I am told –

That I am getting old.

Yet in my dreams

I relive my old days.

When I was young,

And my spirits were high.

Time has changed everything

My people have changed sorely.

No wonder, every day I am told –

That I am getting old!