The want of love

Brothers and sisters have grown rich

And opted out of my influence.

So is the case with my children too.

My wife has emigrated from me.

I’m no longer in their focus

Nor are they in my focus either.

They and I see each other’s shadow.

I could buy love from the poor

With favours, which are too costly.

I’m desperate for women’s love,

Which is locked by younger elements.

I could neither give nor get love. 

No comfort is as good as love.

The want of love hastens one’s death.

14.03.2009