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.
-
Author:
P.H.Rose (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 11th, 2016 07:51
- Comment from author about the poem: just a bit of tongue in cheek. As we all get older our mirror Reflection changes.... It's weird though because Behind your eyes your still 18.......
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
Offline)
Comments3
I like the realism in this one; many will relate because age is not the only reason that our refectuons can become unrecognisable. Well written! Xx
Thank you for those great comments.
Very much appreciated
Very cute and great point! Wish we could stop the progression of age, but we cannot...:)
Thank you WBL...
Very welcome!
Great write
Thanks Tony
Welcome
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