Does anyone out there remember when they were young and free,
When the words " Middle Age" were mentioned, we all ignored them, after all, that was eons away,
"nothing to do with me".

Well guess what mate,
Those words are us now,
And when someone utters them,
Dont you just hate?

The things you tell yourself as you look into the mirror!

" The hairs the same",
Well! going grey, and a little missing,
Perhaps it'll grow again!"

"What are those lines upon my face?"
Must have something to do with the ozone layer,
or outer space."

" Who tampered with this belt?"
" It used to be size 23,
Now it wont even go round my knee,"

And then my friends we look at our posture, and thats a sight to see.

Boobies and chests situated where the waist used to be,
Bottoms and tummies hanging upon your knee,
Flabby skin where muscles once were,
So, you suck them in, and pull them up,
And hope that noone will see,
And convince yourself, it's only gravity.

Then, there's the younger generation,
My! how they've changed from when you were their age,
You study them with wonder and dismay,
And think to yourself, "we would'nt have said or done that in my day."

The hardest thing to accept I think,
Is that although the body is changing and not the same,
The mind is active and agile as ever,
And the brain still believes that we are young again.

So with this thought in mind, go on being Middle Aged,
With the body that you cannot change,
But, let your mind have its way,
And you will remain young until your dying day.

                                                               (ljs)