Bucket List

Old age

I look at that bucket
Filled with some pampering items
Like love in the absence of condition
Where soul mate embellishes
Heart space and soul vacancy
And there are lusts
Wanderlust – the maddening attraction to
Unknown places and mystical lands
Where cultures are colonies
On a petri dish – color coded
Size-demarcated and possessing
Metabolic versatility and survival prone
And there is  carnal lust
Like an insatiable fungus
Whose mycelium invades every coir and fiber
And quakes every bone and niggles every tendon
Still inside that same bucket
There is a hole, where things leak or fall
Down that passage of time
And one day when you look inside
You will find an empty space
When you can see your own reflection
At the bottom, of a wrinkled old man – supposedly with wisdom
With no miracle cream to evanesce the lines
Arthritis in every bone
And demented in neurotransmitters
As age ever so slow kills the dreamer
When all that is left
Is a cocktail of pills prolonging
The big fade we all know
As senescence.


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