Calm, tired, pretty old
Witnessed seasons, confronted heat and cold
Iron nails, bolts on me, all rusted
I am weak now, exhausted
Sitting silently, under oak tree in Old Park
Carved with labyrinthine lines, kids often mark
Talking to breeze, holding the morning dew
Taking care of it, till sun sublimates it, leaving no clue
Meeting pedestrians, strangers or known
Listening to their conversation, contemplating in alone
Life is the shade of colors, same as mine
Smile, tears, issues, resolutions, oscillate with time
I am, listening to music, by me a new friend
Practicing flute, resting his back on my hand
It is carrying fragrance of bliss, darkness of despair
Life seems martinet sometimes, very unfair
In next moment it changes the color, come smiles
In this eccentric journey, we move miles and miles
I am a bench, though old, but rendering my duty
I am witnessing my weathering, alleviation in my beauty
Irrespective of that, I am ready to serve all, old or new
Mate for tired, toy for kids, companion for birds and dew
