The Old Man Poem by Hamza El Ghamarti

The old man watched
as the children played
between their cheerful cheers
he silently prayed

to be young once again
to be foolish and wild
to be innocent and carefree
to once more be a child

to ride around on his bike
to play in mud with a stick
to be healthy and vigorous
no longer fragile and sick

to play games with his friends
to be adventurous and brave
to share a home with his parents
instead of visiting their grave

but he was tired and old
with burdens to bear
a bald spot on his head
where there used to be hair

reminiscing the past
made him think of tomorrow
the inevitability of it all
filled his heart with sorrow

because the old man, he knew
that the children of today
will one day grow old
and will no longer play

it is the circle of life
they will grow old, and then
they will pray to be young
to be a child once again