She isn't weak
She really isn't but she was scared

Your laugh is one of the prettiest sounds I ever heard

I may have tripped
            over my own feet.

But at least when I stumble.

I know its my own steps that
                      got me here.

Laughing that the shoelaces of life,
               made me dust off..


And not watching  my step,
           but make sure if I do

trip again

its my own fault.

          And not someone else,

getting in the way of my walk.

If you're sad
Say 'stroopwafel'

have a nice day bro's

Thank you
For all the good laughs
For all the endless thoughts
You never know that
A part of me wished
You're the one
And only

-wonderwall-

When was it that I got old and all of the joy was faded away?
Why didn't I notice my hair all over was turned gray?

When did all my excitement all seem to fade and get sick.
I know from all of the candles it didn't all happen that quick.

Why didn't I observe my youth all quietly, unnoticed slide away.
When did the word "cool" become something that old guys all say?

Why is my six pack now sitting much nearer the top of my leg?
Why do I now resemble someone struggling to carry a keg?

Why is it I go to the bathroom while the world all sleeps at three?
And find that I have to sit down, too tired, even just to go ***?

Oh the girls, how we would make love through dawn until six.
The image just in memory nearly kills me recalling such tricks.

Parts that don't work or sometimes ache that cause me to pause.
Long ago after the rescue giving up attempting to sit on all floors.

I need to put on glasses to read as without I am half blind.
But they take more than half a day if I put them down, to re-find.

I'll finish this gripe with whimper and no raucous call out....
I know I'm still writing but I have forgotten what the ****** about.

I serve with a woman called Lois;
having her here is a bonus;
you know she is near
whenever you hear
laughter, loud and in chorus.