37

37 today,

A year older than yesterday,

Woke up with a twisted and strained back,

I could almost feel my bones crack,

There's no escaping old age,

So might as well turn that page,

Of pretending to be young and fun,

Perhaps I'm not quite done,

But the aches and pains,

And the inflamed veins,

Remind me to slow down,

Gone are the days of being the class clown,

Say that to my mouth though,

And you will know,

It's hard for me to shut up,

So 37 only for the body, the mind is still a pup,

Curious, loud and annoying,

Happily destroying,

Peace in a room,

I specialise is shooing away gloom and doom,

Perhaps I should stop bragging,

And choose to start dragging,

My broken back to the cosy confines of my bed,

Where I shall finally rest my 37 year old head.