When We Grow Old

I always ponder,
about the coming years,
and our life ahead.
Would you still be the same,
like the way you used to be?
Would you still hold my hand,
when we cross the street?
Would you still touch my hair,
even when it becomes grey or it’s all gone?

Sometimes my heart fears,
that tomorrow you might forget,
the things we used to do,
for old age might take away,
and ruin your memory.

But I also have fears,
that it’s me who would forget,
everything we used to do,
Or I may not be able to carry out,
because of physical inability,
when arthritis strikes me,
Or Alzheimer takes away my memory.

When we grow old, I wish
that nothing would change
and only you and me, without end.

Away from Dreams

I see you at the park,
smiling,
holding hands with him,
while walking along the pathway
of the beautiful flower garden.

Your face gleams with joy
while taking pictures with him,
and the backdrop is a fountain,
dancing,
the water seems celebrates with you.

I see you in the park,
but you didn’t see me,
as your lips touches his lips,
kissing,
my heart silently cries.

I return to the times, when I
feel the softness of your hands,
in this park, we leisurely walk,
wandering,
together, we build our dreams.

Now, I see you in the park,
walking,
not within my arms,
not within my touch,
away from our dreams, forever.