The Cruel Age
A Anjandev Roy
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The old woman looks through the window,
Her beauty and spark is now just a past shadow,
She calls the passers-by,
But they avoid her on the sly.
The woman thinks sadly about her past glory,
When people jostled with each other to glance at her beauty;
Those days are gone,
Now she can only mourn,
The cruel age does not forgive anyone,
With the time it inevitably grasps everyone.
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