Her words cut through me as a knife
My loving ever soulful wife
'Get up man, It's just a winter cold'
I'm lying there with snotty nose
Feeling old
Feeling old
She's right I know
But won't admit
I'm not that ill
Well, a little bit
Wallowing in self pity
No time for her knife
My self and righteous loving wife
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem