what will i do this morning?
shall i stay in or shall i go?
it's raining for a change,
but that won't keep me from a stroll.
i get cabin fever, if in one place too long,
i can only sit a short, brief time,
i must be up and moving,
to waste the day's a crime.
i don't want to be fat and lazy,
a couch potato, i'll not be,
i can walk a country mile,
and it will not bother me.
i just need that cup of coffee,
to 'jump start' me for the day,
and i'll be fine and dandy,
ready for work or play.
it shouldn't be a question,
whether i'll sit in or not,
it was just a fleeting question,
a passing, unsavory thought.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i bet you go for that walk