Our Duty

Forty years on brow
All sap of youth vanish
Left you a waste rag

Eyes sunk in sockets
Life an exhibit of greed
Unless beauty used

Giving birth to son
Proves my time right here on earth
He forms my account

He, your heir in all
See warmth of blood in your son
When time turns you old.

by gopichandnagasuseela Suseela

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