Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA
No, it's not a poem about Toerag, It's a poem by him. Our friend is unable to post for himself and that's all that will be said about that.
One is carefree at age 9 or 10.
You can climb a tree and see the nest of a wren.
Never a dream of how time does pass
When you roll with a puppy in soft green grass.
Those days go, time doesn't stand still
You begin to climb Life's long, steep hill.
Learning that all isn't joy in just being young
And everything isn't sweet to a youthful tongue.
Knowledge and growth come with age
Life is a book; each day is a page.
For each loved one who goes, another is born
And each dawn heralds a bright new morn.
The other part of the bargain was that I am to be insulting since that is what makes him feel the most at home...so....
You got all the sympathy from me you're gonna get, you old rustbucket so you may as well get back here and show people the talent you ain't got.....ok?