Oh, the worries of old age, they say,
Where knee problems and nerve issues play,
Senior active living, they call it grand,
But the pains and struggles, oh so bland.
Care homes beckon, a thought in mind,
In city they say, solace we'll find,
But with caregivers, cooks, and maids,
Who'll care for us, when our presence fades?
Son needs rest, we're feeling the strain,
At this age, who wants tension's reign?
In city, a fine care home awaits,
Where son finds peace, as the tale relates.
One day we must venture into that place,
Where we'll settle in the final embrace.
Even one son settles here alone,
Taking care of both, a burden to own.
Our little grand child, needing attention and care,
For his sake, we consider this affair,
To ensure no one suffers due to me,
God's will, we'll wait and see.
In the joint family, once so tight,
Now scattered, alone, in the fading light.
Old age no young man wish,
But we should be grateful,
If we find ourselves in it brim,
Because not many was privilege to be old.
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