A thought I wished to circulate. It's the need of the hour. A bit long. Please read till the end.
*Son, please don't send me To the old age home*
What if the hand That guided you to walk Has started to tremble today? What if the mouth that spoke words Has started to cough a lot today? Why can't I have my medicine Brought by you in a tray? Why can't on the soft bed My crumbling spine lay? Son, let me revel The coziness of my home Son, please don't send me To the old age home
Let me eat soft rotis Made by my daughter-in-law's hands I no longer have teeth To manage those hard ones they give I can't stay away from you Let me live in my own house Along with you In can't hear the painful Cacophony anymore The traffic horns outside this place Have made my ears sore. In this unfriendly environment I can't even freely roam, Son, please don't send me To the old age home
I want a family I can call my own They don't even provide us A telephone My bones no longer support me My cataract eyes can't see clearly I want your hand on my head Rubbing my leftover hair A day will come When I shall die And I want only you beside me To mourn and cry I know you heart is Not made of foam Son, please don't send me To the old age home
A little whisper into ears Manifestos years after years Pursuit in for some change Blank pages are blank is not so strange Population control is indeed must Protect thy self in love and lust Equality of necessity is always dimmer Stand and see, boxes full of rubber Cheap and government aided it is for free Seen any flower of Eden garden in need Cramping flesh and then she bleed Where is the plus? is it closed just see When will the soul, stay free Customs and talks are for sure Pure soul termed as impure Thoughts of society and department have become thin Rubbers are free, why is not sanitary napkin?