A LITTLE MIXED UP
Just a line to say I'm living,
That I'm not among the dead.
Though I'm getting more forgetful
And more mixed up in my head.
For sometimes, I can't remember,
When I stand at the foot of the
stairs,
If I must go up for something,
Or I've just come down from there.
And before the frig' so often,
My poor mind is filled with doubt,
Have I just put food away,
or
Have I come to take some out.
And there's times when it's dark
out,
I've my hair net on my head,
I don't know if I'm retiring,
Or just getting out of bed.
So, if it's my turn to write you,
There's no need in getting sore,
I may think that I have written,
And I don't want to be a bore.
So, remember that I love you,
And wish that you were here,
But now it's nearly mail time,
So I'll say "goodbye" my dear.
PS: There I stood beside the mail
box,
With a face so very red,
Instead of mailing you my letter
I'd opened it instead.
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