My Sunset

I think of my days of old,
When my life will get cold,
When years will all be sold,
When my stories will be told,

When my priorities will change,
From binoculars to reading glasses,
From joy sticks to walking sticks,
From shoes to flipflops.

When I will prefer the oldies,
When I will watch others dance,
When I will exercise with a walk,
All I will manage to do is talk.

I will teach the young,
I will reminsinces the young days,
My efforts will fulfil the promise 'pays',
And I will be counting my days.

© Mycalian