Ananda's Complaint - Poem by Fred Babbin
I am quite old, I look quite old.
I really cannot help it.
I do not smile so much, nor frown more than a bit,
But the look I have, I cannot see,
and really do not fathom.
Friends and strangers look at me,
ask me questions so my answers
will bestow the secret key
to a hidden mystery.
They are not pleased
when I don’t meet
all of their expectancy.
But a “look” is just a look,
And not reality.
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