Sonnet: In Old Age

All life they slogged till crept on them old age! Their children were the pupils of their eyes; By habit still, to work they yet manage, With spirit good, weary their body lies. The toil they put is ‘yond an estimate; Their loving service is just very great; They wait for Time’s scythe to emancipate; Disgruntled world, they can never satiate. What a wretched world, this happens to be! Unprepared even now, their senescence is; Busy children care not for elderly; But wise old-aged humans on earth’s a bliss! ’tis sad when strikes old-age the aged its gong! The frail figures cannot withstand for long.