A poem about being 29…

As I’ve got older I’ve got boring and dull

All I want is a gin and a belly that’s full

But food makes you fat and so does the gin

I’m starting to resemble a human dust bin

So I think it could be worse as I sit in my seat

Till I catch a glimpse of my massive crows feet

So I start to think sod it I don’t even care

Till I walk past a mirror and find another grey hair

Even then I think it really could be worse

Until I get to the till in the off licence and have no money in my purse

So from now on I say sod it, my only mission

Is to not give a shit and make more bad decisions

Its not like I’ve done anything else for the past 29

Stop telling me to grow up and pass me the wine!

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2 Comments

  1. wait till you get to 44 im thinking the same shit as you do at 29, you are to young to be thinking that sarah, chin hair get the fucking wax pot out weekly and keep a pair of tweezers in the car when they show up better in the light and mirror, you get bags under your eyes that you just noticed and think how did they get there shit im old, i even got offered a health check from the doctors as im over 40 and yes pass me alcohol any thing will do meths lol life is a bitch xxx

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