I dread no more the first white in my hair, Or even age itself, the easy shoe, The cane, the wrinkled hands, the special chair Time, doing this to me, may alter too My sorrow, into something I can bear.
I dread no more the first white in my hair, Or even age itself, the easy shoe, The cane, the wrinkled hands, the special chair Time, doing this to me, may alter too My sorrow, into something I can bear.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories