Old Age

I don’t know much but I’m
Daring to presume that
Old Age
Must feel like revisiting your
Half-lived life from behind the
Curtains of wisdom, because your
pensive thoughts have nowhere to go.
And giving away your belongings
Might feel like a second chance at life
A pretentious diversion from all the
Second guesses, second thoughts and
(missed) Second chances that have
Come to form the pixels of your galaxy.
A celebration of Old Habits where the
Effortless intimacy merges with fault
Lines cracking at the seams of distress.
Every cough, a reminder of the impending
Every tear, a peaceful regression
I don’t know much but I’m
Daring to presume that
Old Age
Keeping aside all the aforementioned humdrum
Has its roots deep in soils of
Humanity and blushes every time
It meets commonness stranded
In a losing fight against time.

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