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by Sonja Shephard
And when I looked at you I missed myself.
Crocodile tears that is.
Old and Gray
Eyes dimmed by years, have shed many a tear,
Both of happiness and remorse.
But that is the wear of growing old;
And we who are old would not change it
There are people who are old,
Who can walk and talk and see;
Still others who are ill and lame.
But each have their memories of yesteryears
And would not trade them for today.
The youth of today will have the same
feeling as they grow old and gray;
And so the world turns for almost everyone;
In a very special way.
Beatrice Parker (1966)
You tell your friends your secret
They laugh just like they are glad.
They won't say anything about it
Until you make them mad.
You see your friend coming,
Coming with something new.
They got all of your secrets
And they go talk about you.