Me at Fifty

Me at Fifty


I looked in the mirror and what did I see?

Some half-century bloke staring right back at me.

I prodded and poked at the deep laughter lines,

I checked out the grey and then uttered a sigh.


Who is this stranger and where has ME gone?

That cannot be me, cause I feel twenty-one.

I’m down with the kids and I’m hip to the core,

I’m not that old man who just looks like a bore.


I can still party hard and I know how to rock,

I can still strut my stuff, almost past ten o’clock.

My clothes are quite trendy, I’m still looking SIC,

I can still LMAO when txting the chicks!


I blog and I post and I hashtag the trend,

I like and I follow the status of friends.

Facebook and Twitter and candy crush three,

I’m cool and I’m hip … so whatsapp with me?




Maybe it’s time to face up to the truth,

I’m fifty years old and no longer a youth.

I don’t paint the town nor fall out of pubs,

Hell, I visit the Doctors more times than the clubs.


And that noise in my ears, or so people say,

Is Key 103 with the hits of today,

What happened to music and why’s it gone bad,

Oh heavens above, now I sound like my dad.


Okay, I admit it, raise my hands in the air

I need reading glasses, I’m losing my hair.

I nap on the couch more than ever before

I’ve taken a liking to Radio Four.


And so What?


Here’s to being fifty, happy birthday to Paul.

I’m blessed to be here and still having a ball.

There’s not much I’d change in the life that I’ve led.

But let’s raise a glass to the future instead.


And that man in the mirror who’s staring at me,

Not looking as taut as I’d like him to be.

Here’s to you friend and the life yet to come,

Wear a smile on your face cos you ain’t fifty one!





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