Row, row, row your boat
Slowly down the drain
Wearily, wearily, wearily, wearily
Life is but a pain

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on February 20, 2012, in Guff, Songs, Wee Poems and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. So very true!


  2. This is sometimes a helpful viewpoint, but it is best to treat it as a temporary guest rather than a live-in partner. 😛


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: