Scrambled Eggs Poem by JAMES T. ADAIR

This morning
I can think of a million things
I'm acutely aware of the sadness life brings
my heart is full of love
But feels no affection or tender offerings
All of life has been untrue
About it, nothing much more to do
Except spend time talking with you
Learning how to feel less blue
and suddenly this thought found legs...
fresh country bacon and scrammbled eggs
maybe some orange juice and some toast
Whole wheat with butter and jam, I like most
It seems that all my other hopes and dreams lost their wings
and this Memorial Day morning I'm reduced to a simple things
I guess that's what happens when you're growing old
When all the love inside is destined to go untold
When all your hopes and dreams fade away
And turn into somthing else, though you plead and beg
Time to sit down and enjoy a scrambled egg!