12 at the station

Why isn't it 12 yet, some exclaim 
It's 12 so soon, some repent.
Some run and tumble, late for their trip
While some slumber in a coach, within.

Many journeys have come to an end,
A plenty more, wait to begin.
What better way to gauge life
Than to sit at a station, watching passers go by?

RIP Suresh Jayaraman

A young boy, of 25

Their only handsome son.

The sole, strong breadwinner

He passed away today.

He earned a meagre sum,

He saved it all for them.

For he couldn’t fail or fall.

But, he passed away today.

He went hungry many days,

And led a frugal life
He let go all the worldly fun

And passed away today.

His body, so much thinner
Than all the men his age.
He didn’t look 25.

But he passed away today.

The doctors declared him sick
He never paid heed

Worried, his medical bills could fetch
Another day’s meal?

He must have felt pain

But little did he care.

Did he know his time has come?

Yet, kept moving at his pace?

Every soul that knew him cries
“Had he…” and “If only…”

The boy died, trying to keep up
Despite all agony.

He left a void that’ll never fill
Some sobs, and memories

If only, I had extended some help!

But, he rushed and passed away.