Crumbs on the Cloth.

My hand trembles and my heart pounds

When I try to touch the earth, my legs lose ground.

I hear less, hence tend to talk loud and more;

To the audience, it is definitely a bore.

My cane does not talk to me and walls don’t come to hug

Dear ones are busy in life and I don’t want to bug

Crumbs are more on cloth than in mouth.

Every single passing day, I feel I am headed South.

Some dreams are still alluring, some worries yet to address;

Rest seems near, but sleep is ironically less.

When I leave, I wonder—will there be a hollow?

Will my chair miss me? Will people carry on the show?

The world will move ahead; it should, I know,

But I want to be remembered fondly even after I go.

To the people who hated me, you did not read me right,

To the people I could not reach, I am sad we could not connect in light,

To the people who love me, look at the star bright and twinkling

To the people I love, I am alive when you are smiling

Oh! Grandma,

My hands are also tiny and legs yet to be sturdy

Heart holds hope and eyes are so very dreamy

When dreams come real, please promise to witness

For, though I don’t say, you are the essence

Don’t be tired, don’t think of sleeping

I need you, your hugs I keep waiting

I hear your blessings, even though huff and puff

You warm me with smile although your life is tough

You find me lost, think, my life is going easy

But when it goes wrong, I come around, again to be merry

Yes, I get busy, chores are more

But, it is not that I don’t adore

I love you even when I whine

Rest can be earned, you are god’s gift of mine