I’m not complaining. The world’s no longer new.

Management sustaining. I can’t speak for her or you.

I’m not complaining. There’s a fact in getting old.

Silence is not explaining. Walk away is my hands fold.

A storm is more than raining. The fears are in the lies.

Winds of change remaining. Listen hard, you hear the sighs.

It’s all on God and choices.

Oh my, how that time flew.

Your words are in your voices.

All complaining. Morning dew.

You’re not as smart as Tuesday.

There are far worse things than plain.

In the garden they are calling you.

They feel cold and serving pain.