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Sep 2020
Getting old
In the winter

I cry from up my nose
My eyes always , red and blurry
If I get cold my toes fall off
Where they go I am at a loss
Never find them in my shoes
And my boots rub my ankles
Feels like rubbing them with sand paper
To a lovely rose gloss
In my day
I was. Road runner baby
Iā€™m a road runner
And you sweet
Are the one I like to use

Not sure I will write more.
Love P@ul.  ***
Paul Hardwick
Written by
Paul Hardwick  64/M/England
   Paul Hardwick
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