Circling the Drain
In the land of dreams, where sleep’s a game,
We circle the drain, but who’s to blame?
Friends grow old, and some depart,
Leaving behind a heavy heart.
As seventy nears, the nights grow long,
Arthritis sings its morning song.
Best friends vanish, like a magic trick,
Gone in a flash, oh, life is so quick.
Health scares come, and mothers go,
White hair replaces, youths abundant glow.
Medically fraught, friends surround,
In this whimsical world, we’re all spellbound.
But through the trials, we laugh and play,
In this whimsical dance, come what may.
For life’s a journey, strange and grand,
Circling the drain, hand in hand.
Mark
We joke about the things that tend to worry us.
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