"Just a note to say I'm living,
that I'm not among the dead.
Tough I'm getting more forgetful and mixed up in the head.
Inside The Poem Continues:
I got used to my arthritis, to my dentures I'm resigned.
I can manage my bifocals but gosh I miss my mind!
For sometimes I can't remember, when I stand at the foot of the stairs,
If I must go up for something or have I just come down from there?
And before the fridge so often, my poor mind is filled with doubt.
Have I just put food away or have I come to take some out?
So if it's my turn to write you there's no need for getting sore;
I may think that I have written and don't want to be a bore.
Just remember that I love you and wish that you were near.
Now it's nearly mail time so I must say goodbye, my dear.
Here I stand beside the mailbox with a face so very red!
Instead of mailing you my letter, I have opened it instead!"