by Sonal Gupta
(New Delhi, India)
A beleaguered older once proclaimed -
An elderly being is a worse curse,
Because my Supreme Constitution doesn't recognize my meagre existence.
Since 1950, the sufferance is ageing,
Greyish Black has now turned to white,
But the bill of my rights lasted lapsing
From tables to tables,
Awaiting its clearance from a catechizing eye.
With the world growing fiercely,
The utterance of societal horns haunts me,
As I fear that, 'My Men', 'My State', 'My Judicature'
will ain't eulogize my ageing scheme.
Thrown out of 'My House'
Sheesh! I felt like dying in a lampoons stream,
As for My Men, it's not 'Me' who praised their dreams',
As they count Money to be their King and Queen.
Now I wandered for a home,
To give me some bread and a medical team,
Alas! I Shuddered,
Crying for my empty pockets affordance,
Because 'My State' hasn't established an 'Old Age Home' for my elderly being.
I now appealed to 'My Judicature',
Beseeching a fundamental right for me in my Supreme Constitution,
In Mandating 'My State's duty towards establishing 'My Elderly House'.
Alas! I cried wondering My Wrinkled Face
A tough Walnut, who lifted the aching’s of 'All',
Now creeping for its own right, being one's own and all alone!
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