As days go by, I see your hands crinkle,
And your wrinkles visible.
As minutes go by, I watch you repeat same words a thousand time.
I watch your hair gradually turn grey
Your voice loose its audibility and vigour.
As seconds go by, I see you grow weak and weary.
As I hold your hands,
I feel tired hands,
From years of laundry,
Joggling between career and children.
Tired from making deals and
Making meals.
A friend, teacher solicitor and instructor you have been.
If forever is a thing, I'd gladly want you to hold my hands through it.
But I know the Creator will call you home some day.
I am glad I saw the world through you.