15/04/2024
If I was young and bright;
I would paint every wall,
I would dance my way through,
I would talk with the trees,
and laugh with the wind.
I would sing with the birds,
and climb every mountain,
I would look in the mirror,
and smile at me.
But my rebel has resigned.
It has given up;
on my adventures,
and my craziness.
Reflecting back from the mirror
I only see a youth left behind.
Perhaps I have gotten old;
old and stale,
with no vibrance left.
My shoulders are burdened
by worries and responsibilities;
my weakened body,
it cant hold much anymore.
But it does hold something,
something it can never let go of:
With every strand of courage left,
it holds on to love.
A love so big,
enough to carry me till the end.
Enough to bury my frail body.
A love;
enough for this world,
and the next.
Kiran Shah
