Tell me

TELL ME

Tell me, after I am old, feeble and frail, would you still be here.


Would I still look beautiful with all my wrinkles and dark patches?

Could I depend on you for support still?

Or does my walking cane become the only thing to rely on?




Tell me, when my tooth begins to fall and my mouth looks like a dental reject


Would my smile still appease you, or be forced to live in solitude?


When my backbone begins to bend in resignation,


Would you still stand tall, Or would I need to go a little lower to be
trampled upon?




When my intellect deteriorates and my eyes bid farewell


My memories of you will never fade nor your face be obscured


You remain to me as you were in the beginning and much more 

Tell me, would it be the same for you?