And if so, would you like to share it with us. Sometimes poetry can be kind of healing and we all could use a little gentle, thoughtful medicine. Thank you.
There once was a mom with dementia, Who insisted that orange was magenta, Determined she’s right, So absurdly she’d fight, Sure that chocolate tastes just like polenta. 😉
Thank you.
Who insisted that orange was magenta,
Determined she’s right,
So absurdly she’d fight,
Sure that chocolate tastes just like polenta.
😉