That Memory of No-One
My eyes have grown too tired for seeing
But memory is colored
Clouded and confused
Don't even ask about my peeing
My legs have grown too weak for walking
But these wheels can do the job
Just stay away from stairs
So, why are all the neighbors talking?
My mind has grown too old for thinking
But still I read the papers
They never made much sense
I think this poem now is stinking
Contributors: | N, F, please end me. |
Poem finished: | 20th August 2003. |