A LITTLE MIXED UP Just a line to say I'm living That I'm not among the dead Though I'm getting more foregetful, And messed up in my head. I've got used to my arthritis When I stand the foot of the stairs Wondering if I must go up for something Or, if I've jsut come down from there. And before the refrigerator so often, My poor mind is filled with doubt Have I just put food away or Have I came to take some out? And there's times when it is dark, With my nightcap on my head. I don't know if I'm retiring, Or, just got out of bed So if it is my turn to write to you, There's no need getting sore. I many think that I have written And don't want to be a bore. So remember I do love you And wish the you were near. Now it's nearly mail time I must say goodbye, my dear. Here I stand at the mailbox, With face so very red. Instead of mailing you my letter I opened it instead!

BACK

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page