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Post by cabooseman on Feb 7, 2010 10:34:40 GMT -6
Reflections The other day, I happened by chance, As I passed a mirror, to give it a glance And I wondered who that old man could be, Who, with his mouth wide open, was looking at me.
His bald head was sprinkled with a little grey fuzz, And he wasn't at all handsome (like I always was) He looked like a sack of mismated parts, Put together without aid of instructions or charts.
And while I know that my shoulders don't slump, This person's were misshapen in one ugly hump' Now, if that was my image, I only can say, They don't make mirrors like they did in my day.
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