To the editor:
Remember when fun was just a laugh,
like a lost craft it vanishes with maturity,
over ran by the impurities, we struggle with the simple things.
On your pants you feel a tug, a little boy gazes at you for a hug, you submit
because he leaves you with no choice, his actions louder than any voice he
keeps it simple.
Like a friend who really listens and is always there, comfort comes from the
heart not a judgmental stare, they speak the truth and the truth is always