29 October 2013

 

Drinking coffee thru a straw
That don’t bother me at all.
If the coffee cup falls, I will not win,
I can’t change clothes before the stain sets in.
So my coffee is sipped from a cup with a lid,
And a straw sticking out – my ‘humble’ is not hid.
Go ahead and laugh or judge,
For my last resort will be a sippy cup.
My hands will not work like they once did.
Any pride I had, after RA – down hill it slid.
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