You played with marble orbs on dusty bylanes
And garnered glass marbles as your trophy
Today you play with Ferrari and foreign tours,
New medals treasured by obsessed mind’s atrophy.
Languishing and dimming eyes of a senile mother
Clutching your worn out childhood photo
In some darkened room of smelly old-age home
Oblivion her shelter, the memories her only prizes won.
Can you vie for a prize, a gold trophy in her smile
As her famished fingers and her misty raining eyes
Caress your hair like bygone days
Of grey monotone yet fraught with grace
Each teardrop a pearly tribute
To your success, your immortal triumph.