The talking wall..
The Talking Wall...
As I grow old…
I barely remember things told.
Weak is my body, fragile in memory,
Often alone I am lost in reverie.
Making notes, I stick on wall,
Gradually covering the entire hall.
Things to do, plans to accrue.
My notes have different shades and hue!
Emerging from the centre of wall,
Prominent daily reminders call.
Gratitude and love victoriously tussle.
In life’s hustle and bustle
When there is no one to talk to,
I stick another note with glue!
For my wall talks to me daily,
Listening to my heart gaily!
© Shristee
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