I Am The Old Man Poem by Sibghatullah Khan

With three scores and ten to my name,
and that I can remember a lot,
I am the Old Man. I eat less besides,
And sleep the first quarter of every single night.
Everything they do is wrong in my sight,
I have a stomach for advising, and lest
anything should go wrong, I keep revising.

All for aging, I celebrate caution
in using my days and the left-over Ration.
They call me a-gone case when I am not
on the same page, but I keep basking
outside my Elfin Grot. There is no asking
me out of it. The subject of generation-gap,
they talk in varsities in the afternoon

While I lie down for a nap. They do not care
when I am coughing; and in their good-natured revelry,
they go laughing. They might not know
that I am Time, and I lurk around to tell
my customary tale: 'They have to crawl out
of this Honey-comb, and not without sorrow;
Some would go today and some would leave tomorrow.'