Of All The Years

 

Of all the years

that's ever been

this is the year

that makes no sense

 

So many things

got out of hand

cannot imagine

or pretend

 

That such a year

will come again

we hope no more

its scourge portends

 

A year of troubles

death of old friends

year disappear

come to an end.

 

 

🌷(1)

◄ Old Ideas---a poem by O.L. Buzzerd

The Sundown Syndrome ►

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