Wise old man, all wizened and white,

Walks in watching through dimmed sight.

A staff in hand and golden bell,

For when time’s ripe to resound the knell.

His eyes hold flashes of times gone by,

Good ones, mad ones, laughs and sighs

A mirror are they, to foresee,

What times to come, could (should) be.

A toothless smile on his dear face,

Shall begin to fade as moments race.

Couldn’t hold him back, if you tried,

So everyone danced when he finally died.


Pic: By Kelly Sikkema (From Unsplash)


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Written by Sai

When thoughts began to rhyme,
And lines found a heartbeat,
I transformed from a dentist to a poet.

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