Turning Forty Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Turning forty

From then this figure
Works as bomb;
Inside the vinegar is garlic,
Kills boiling…
Destroys my brain
Breaks heart…

She cried…
And I mocked:
-with my word…?

On day that turned forty
I was too grumpy
Forgot all surrounding
-include her aging
-importance of forty…
No hello
No nothing
Worked routine
My daily…

She cried
Her tears made flood
I wondered when she said:
-today is…

Was too late
Very late
Ignore?
No!
I cannot!
It burns me
Poison in my veins
Runs to heart…

Damn forty! ! !

What is this?
Why aging?

Relation with forty?