Monday 17 June 2013
What's wrong with me?
I haven't got a phobia, an -algia or a hernia,
nor yet a simple complex to bewail so they can cure yer.
My feet were pretty grotty once but they've been chopped and changed,
I'm really fully better - though the dog is quite deranged.
So when the general boasting starts I just sit still and stumm
and listen while the whinges go cavorting round the room.
I shake my head and smile and tut and quietly sip my tea
because I never ever can decide: what is there wrong with me?
© Sheila RogersAll rights reserved