Another day gone,
it was cold and I feel old,
even though I’m not.
And marbles do roll,
dropped on hard floors, very well,
going everywhere.
I found an old friend,
a camera I once lost,
and found it today.
My eyes are so sore,
too much screen time for Thursday,
what will Friday bring?
My fountain pen’s back,
in full flow and writing stuff,
a little cocky.
Well that is it now,
the words don’t flow and won’t rhyme,
waiting for their turn.
The carpet flew off,
it took to the air flying,
until it got cold.
