Yesterday I visited a friend in hospital who has terminal cancer. We sat outside enjoying the sunshine.
I noticed folk sitting near us winging. It was to hot or to windy. When I left I wrote this.
We moan, we winge
Its to hot or to cold
I’m to fat or to thin
But we are
ALIVE
The kids are unruly
To noisy, to untidy
Drive me crazy
But your still here
WITH THEM
Work is crap
No one listens
They expect to much
For to little pay
But you can still
WORK
Your other half
Never listens
Tells you what to do
Moans your not
Doing it quick enough
But you still
LOVE THEM
Don’t moan, don’t winge
Enjoy life
Enjoy love
And be happy
YOU STILL CAN








