Ageing

When offered a seat on a bus or train

I never demur, I never decline

I gracefully accept, and gently recline..

Ah, what bliss to put up one’s feet

Up in the air, though not on the seat

Age has its merits,

 white hair works its charm

To request for help

never does any harm.

On metros and trains

people jump up and smile

their problems forgotten

like the luggage in a pile.

They want to offer aid

they feel I need to sit

as through the crowds I wade

frail looking but fit

so do not paint your locks

let the whiteness blind

for the colour often tends

to make the people kind

My white hair has thus helped me

Forget my aches and pains

For often it has offered

Less problems and more gains.