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Fewer Hugs
When you can no longer bend down to pick something up
or take your best gal for a stroll in the park
And putting your socks on is a battle royale
ruining your morning and your remaining morale
When two minutes in the sun sets you to sweating
you lament that from life you’re not getting
any roses or tulips, but instead a pair of blue lips
from moaning and groaning at the aches in your two hips
Why not cheer up, my good friend – God must really love you
to pay you such attention, every minute he hugs you…
… Well, pardon me, if you will, but I’d prefer fewer hugs
if God really loved me, He’d just pull the plug
Copyright ©
Gershon Wolf
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