Sunday, December 27, 2009

Aching Age
A little poem
by
Tanveer Taavri
1997



Tension tension all the while
Even pension costs a bribe
Loneliness, sickness,
neither dead nor alive!
When did I join
This spurned tribe?

When tired of aching age
And, the will to live I lack;
I wish I were a videotape
So I could rewind myself back.




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