Just a line to say I’m living
That I’m not among the dead
Though I’m getting more forgetful
And mixed up in the head.
I’ve got used to my arthritis
To my dentures I’m resigned
I can manage my bifocals
But oh God, I miss my mind.
For sometimes I can’t remember
When I stand at the foot of the stairs
If I must go up for something
Or if I’ve just come down from there.
And before the refrig, 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 are times when it is dark
With my nightcap 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 of getting sore
I may think that I have written
And don’t want to be a bore.
So remember I do love you
And I wish you were near
But now it’s nearly mail time
So I must say “Goodbye Dear.”
There I stood beside the mailbox
With a face so very red
Instead of mailing you my letter
I opened it instead!
— author unknown
[Picture is from www.dailyhaha.com. At least some of the humor on this sight may well offend you. Humor does that sometimes. No complaints accepted here.]