Old Age

Poem : Old Age by me (Andik)

At the edge of dusk, wrinkles etch on the face

Veins are drawn on the hands

Along with thousands of memories

Concealing a thousand sacrifices

In the old cottage, her heart cries out

Searching for her children in the city

While tears do not lie

Behind a facade of forced smiles

A mother remains a mother

Thirsting for the return of all

In the days of old age

Not her final days

In a quiet garden, on a wooden bench

Love stories are etched among the leaves

Children play, their cheerful voices

Awakening the spirit, though the body is frail

Let memories flow gently

Like a river that never ceases

Old age is a new chapter

Where we celebrate a sacred life