If you could walk just one short mile
In shoes of mine that fit
You’d come to know my writing style
The humor and the wit
Things done in childhood and some as a young man
Undignified, embarrassing, it’s really quite a list
Survive I did to tell the tale, of course that was the plan
Peeked in the door and looked at Death and told him he had missed
So now you know, from book to book, the reason that I smile
Remembering those bygone days of kids we all once were
Those memories are on a shelf, all in a dusty pile
This old mind reassembles them to make them clean and pure
What have you done! You’ve walked a mile
In shoes of mine that fit
Return them now, I say with smile
They’re broken in, I’ll wear them in a bit J
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(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Edwin