AGE IS BUT A NUMBER

If age is but a number…

Very young some days I am,

But other times, oh, so old…

I hate the sin of Adam.

Some days I skip just like a girl

Who has barely freed her teens…

But other times I feel too old

To still dress in blue jeans.

Some days my mirror is kind…

But on others, oh, so cruel,

I wish it would lie to me…

I don’t care if I’m a fool.

I want to see the mirror reflect,

An image of the prettier me,

And erase the signs of age again,

And bring a lie for my eyes to see.

If age is but a number,

I wonder on which one should I hold?

The earlier years, the middle years…

Any of them…but on the old.

I’ll skip a little slower…

For now, faster wets my pants,

Forget that I am aging…

Pick four leafed clovers among the ants.