A place for discussion on poetry, reviews, contests, etc. |
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What do I do? I mean at my age. I get out of bed, A new day to face. Since I’m not dead, I’ll keep up the pace. So outside I’ll go, Put sand on the ice Or shovel more snow, The ice is not nice. A shovel in my hand Don’t seem to fit. Don’t like spreading sand So I go inside and sit. |