I am old. I have lost six teeth
From my shrunkengums
My breasts are shrivelled gourds
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I love the depth of this poem. Memories from the past. I hope that the beauty of the skies, a scoop of early morning peace and a flow of love out of our heart may brighten the days. Creative writing is a true gift. Excellent poem.
Ageing is as inevitable as the tides As stars in their cosmic motions.....it's pathetic expression where age the maker of wicker sense, where the time comes to all enjoyable moments of life....