SENILITY

Walking cane, you’ll have to wait,

My dolly sits upon her chair;

Why did I rush to fill these shoes

And leave my dolly sitting there?

Dad’s wool socks in mommy’s bra,

Pretending that my breasts were real;

How could I know, at age of ten,

How hurtful being grown would feel?

Skip, skip, skip to my Lou,

Flies in the buttermilk, shoo fly shoo;

Dolly, why are you still there?

I said, it’s time to comb your hair.