Okay…another untitled poem…
Listen to an old man speak

It’s hard to see him in his teens

Full of pomp and full of words

Thinking he can rule the world 

See how calm he goes about 

He could never have been twenty-one

When life he thought was for his use

And pleasures were to be abused

See, you’ll hardly catch a frown

Was he ever thirty-nine?

When positive he knew it all

He loved to listen to his voice 

Nah! He couldn’t ever have been young

He’s vintage wine, full-bodied, strong

At twenty-one or thirty-nine

He could only have been…

…watered wine?

And in his teens without a doubt

He lacked all fizz

He was just flat

So don’t tell me old men were young once

‘cos if it’s true…

It’s phenomenal!

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Is that what my younger self thought of 39 year olds? (positive they knew it all? aww…ha) I must have been in awe of old men…(and thought young men were rubbish…can’t blame my younger self…learnt the hard way aye?)