Age Makes The Difference

There comes a cold wind blowing on my face
and my cheeks are ruddy red.
It is a cold wind blowing on my face
and my toes feel like they're dead.
But I could stay outside all day
and never think about cold.
For that's exactly how you feel
when you're nine years old.

There comes a cold wind blowing on my face
and my cheeks are ruddy red.
It is a cold wind blowing on my face.
I feel like I am dead.
I need to stay inside today
and look out at the cold.
And that's exactly how you'll feel
when you're ninety years old.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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