On a birthday, we get one year older
A trip, closer step to a grave
Yet we celebrate with cakes and sweets
And mark it as a memorable day
In childhood, we celebrate it as sheer fun
It is stacked with brand new games
In adolescence, we, with fresh pimples
We smile shyly during this day
In twenties, we are busy and on the run
With new friends, it can be fun
But in thirties, forties, fifties, sixties
It is just an another day
In seventies, we stop looking forward
We dread to see the next day
Afraid we are of our bad, siily health
That deteriorates with every age.
Living in an Unsafe World
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No, Don’t wish me ‘Happy New Year’ I am not in mood. There is nothing to
celebrate. You tell me to move on, things are not going to change.
How can I...
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