I walked into an old tiled house
Where hung an old board
‘Divine mission Home for the Aged’.
Silence and darkness filled the corridors,
I found many old faces here and there
With gloomy and withdrawn eyes.
Helplessness was writ large on them
And a semblance of hopelessness;
Depressed and dejected souls were they, in cage
Moving around like snails with age.
But some lay on beds Like discarded old rags,
Eyes glued to the roofs.
Smiles have left their lips,
Depression paints and draws
More and more lines to it.
Their eyes expect ‘No miracles’,
Of seeing their loved ones
Their hearts ‘Never dream’
Being caressed by some loving hands
But their ears wait forever
To hear them say a few loving words
And crave forever to kiss their dear ones.
Will I ever see among them
A happy face with gleaming smile?
I asked myself in vain.
Suddenly I found some at last,
And reached in eager to greet them fast
But Alas, they were all senile and forgotten their past