POEMS ABOUT AGEING

HOLLOW MAN

HOLLOW MAN

[The mind of the old is, in a way, hollow.]


In the six decades I lived,
Plenty I learned and earned.
I gave my all to others
But by them have been spurned.

Now that my each step is slow
And my breath is laboured,
I feel that my end is near
And my days are numbered.

But as I trudge along my
Uncertain weary ways,
Do I carry the burden
Of those my youthful days?

No, I have no pain in heart,
No hatred no rancour.
Gone are the feelings of love
Or of lurking anger.

My heart is now devoid of
All feeling and sadness.
I am just a hollow man
With a tinge of madness.


 Written in abcb, 7-6-7-6 format.

M C Gupta
15 September 2006