A Little Mixed Up

Just a line to say I'm living,

That I'm not among the dead,

Tho’ I'm getting more forgetful

And more mixed up in the head.

For sometimes I can't remember

When I stand at the foot of the stair

If I must go up for something or-

If I just came from there.

And, before the frig'- so often

My poor mind is filled with doubt.

Have I just put the food away

Or have I come to take some out?

And there's times when it is dark out,

With my night cap on my head,

I don't know if I'm retiring or-

Just getting out of bed.

So if it's my time to write you,

There's no need getting sore.

I may think that I have already written

And don't want to be a bore.

So- remember that I love you

And I wish you were here.

And now it's nearly mail time.

So I must say Goodbye, my dear.

There I stood beside the mailbox

With face so very red.

Instead of mailing you my letter

I had opened it instead!!

Source: Bess Carr of Burnet, Texas,

deceased(I think she wrote this)

. . .