"A man who lived by digging graves survived
To ripe old age. A neighbor said: "You've thrived
For year, digging away in one routine-
Tell us the strangest thing you have ever seen."
He said: "All things considered, what's most strange
Is that for seventy years without a change
That dog, my Self, has seen me digging graves,
Yet neither dies, nor alters, nor behaves !"
Every day ends now on disappointment...hmmm....without understanding the cause of my disappointment I sleep so that I can start another day.
Looking at gray sky now contract my heart…hmm….I suffered every time I heard the singing of the birds and suffered more by changing of season.
Is it may be I am aging...most people remember age with pleasure and regrets its passing but I always see my age as bars and shackles of a jail…
I am provided with a tongue and tears…even when I will old like a hag…then why I worrying….?
What I want?
I want may be the wisdom….freedom….to open my hearts door and lighted its corners.
I am aging without gaining freedom….without any wisdom….
As a falcon I am suffering in my cage when ever I see a flock of birds flying freely in the spacious sky.
It is ok for those who born dead and who exist like a frozen corpses but the person who feels much and know little is the most unfortunate creature under the sun.
I don’t want to be a gravedigger who digs grave for others but could never change himself.