Getting Senile
“Open your mouth!” the old lady demanded.
He clamped it shut, not what she commanded.
“Hey! I am warning you!” she swiftly shrieked.
She was holding a toothbrush that clearly reeked.
The turtle’s head pulled back, in a simple disappear.
She was getting senile, the poor old dear!
She thought the turtle was her little son, Tom.
When in fact to Viet Nam he had gone.
The turtle was his replacement, sad to say.
Tommy has been gone since 1969, in May.
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