My eyebrows grow unruly

It really will not do

Should I pluck them? Should I strim them?

Or leave them all askew

Where once there was a six pack

A Party- Seven sits

I don’t want to have to exercise

This really is the pits

My legs have become skinny

My hair is just as thin

Should I rail against the dying light

Or take it on the chin?

I never was a looker

It just seems so unfair

Seeing reflected in the mirror

The signs of wear and tear

My wife says that she loves me

Even though I’m growing old

She married the man inside, she says,

And not a centrefold

It should make me feel better

Instead I’m feeling sad

That the person looking back at me