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He said he is just seven years old

Don't understand what he is doing here

None of us can enter the secret spheres

Mechanisms which brought him to dementia

All that he can see looks so strange

His hands are different old and wrinkled

They are covered by tortuous veins

Entire body's decrepit

Seized with a great distress

At dawn of his birthday

The day of his eight years

The night when he's gone

Fallen asleep in a breath

And never has never awaken

Dandled in sweet rest

Even his own voice has changed since the last time

Tired hoarse and breathless

Asking what kind of disease he's got he feels exhausted

He can't stand up

Nobody told him that a cancer is growing in him everyday

He can't recognize anybody around the bed

He asks for his parents to come but they won't do

He keeps the impress that he leaves without having lived

Who are these persons near me all smiling

With tears running on the cheeks

Why do they claim that they are my children