February 6, 2021
What if I am not the person I used to be?
That I am either a clone or a bad copy,
And someone replaced me while I slept?
It explains some of the things I’ve seen,
Differences from when I was a teen,
And what I feel is hard to accept.
Some look in the mirror and see yesterday,
With creams and ointments to keep age at bay,
Seeing in candid photos how we really are.
So they say “no pictures please,”
To help keep their minds at ease,
Though the insanity is not really that far.
Somewhen a newer version of me,
Traverses the universe without disease,
Living their lives not feeling dejected.
And I am cast in purgatory,
Reminiscing of long lost glory,
Admittedly feeling a little rejected.
And every year we keep on aging,
Fat and grey we keep on changing,
And saying I am still 27, sounds rather fishy.
And as each birthday takes me over,
At 50, I stop worrying about being older,
And instead I say. “don’t I look great for being sixty?”