I stick to my Stick

I’m proud of you, my old friend,

made me strong enough to stand

Legs so lethargic, not confident,

stagger to carry, my body weight

Crumple on walks, joints worn out,

on whims to move, painfully shout

U my partner, be with me always,

when with me, I’m full of courage

Need no wheel chair, nor a walker,

no firm grip of a supporting finger

You my valued prized possession,

offer much valor, allay all tension

In an active life’s receding year,

I realize, you an honest partner

D’ moment U prevail in my hand,

I never bow down, wish to bend

Rather a stick, one would prefer,

instead of helping hand of others

A kid leading Father of d’ nation,

with a stick, sketches R K Laxman

In life drama, a multipurpose prop,

used best, before final scene drop

Not chair ridden, confined to bed,

looking forward, marching ahead

U savior, save from Collis fracture,

no fall, no crack in neck of femur

Arms to parry stray dog menace,

keep unwanted at safe distance

An ornament, for added dignity,

projects one as head of d’ family

To bow down a flowering branch,

for morning offering of flowers

To pull guava, from plant’s hold,

with asthenic stature, I feel bold

Now just an undesirable situation,

no sticks seen within wanted items

Conspiracy theory slowly creeps in,

 sticks, missing from market scene

As if a commercial business story,

for a booming Orthopedic surgery

As road traffic accidents rampant,

also extremists, miscreant attack

Accidental falls, numbers on rise,

innocent, old,  getting victimized

Heaves of plaster of Paris dressing,

now on roadsides frequently seen

Stringent law to be passed by State,

it’s no humiliation, not to hesitate

A stick luxurious or ordinary one,

to be carried by all senior citizen

March ahead, head towards sky,

no stooping low in anyone’s eye

without even slightest inhibition,

I’ll make a deliberate declaration

With harvestable organ donation,

enlist stick, my precious possession