Poezja

stuck at this transcend of time
as i revisit the days of my prime
stirring deep within memories
somewhere around my twenties
there are things i would still love to revisit
if and only if time would permit
it's been long
oh! dear and it never felt wrong
when we used to dance to Paapa Nyankson's song
i used to smile to myself in the mirror
now, i do same with horror
life is short and so simple
my grandchildren dont believe i once had a dimple
that period we call old age
leaves you nothing for you to salvage
your bones can no longer carry
you srength will always be weary
old age, a blessing or a curse?
to hell, who even cares?