Frail and grey,
The world may say,

But you should know better,
Dear son,

That in these strands, lie the cinders of sagacity,
These stomach that bore you, have dined with the simpleton and erudite,

My eyes tell a tale,
They have seen,
Tears of laughter from success,
Forlorn from failure,

Dear son,

Choose your path,
Devoid of trepidation or doubt,


For that lane you take,
Be it crooked or austere,
Shall be your prophet,
Foretelling your doom,
Or bloom.

Afolabi Boluwatife Oluwamuyiwa

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-her-dying/