Getting old

Oh youthful body, where have you gone now,
why is it i am left, with this fat greying sow.
Pain upon waking, the same as I sleep,
These things remain when we sow and we reap.
I do not recognise this reflection in my mirror,
baggy and grey, like an old knackered pillow.
A head of hair, that was all curly and black,
to be replaced, by this grey thinning rack.
Disappeared is that slim thirty two waist,
a large fat barrel, here stood in its place.
Gone my pearly whites, my soldiers in formation,
what's left in my mouth, now rotting in damnation.
My face didn't have, even one single long line,
it's now an ordnance map, that's used all of the time.
Do I run out of my house and jump off the nearest pier,
no I think I'll go downstairs, and open up another beer.