Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2021
Fat
I am not fat
Nor fifty (plus)
Nor bald
Nor halfway (or more)
Through my span of life,
My earlobes are not grown,
Nor are there bags
Beneath my eyes,
Wrinkles on my face
Slack skin upon my hands,
It's just the mirror tells me that is so,
And it's lies,
All lies,
****** lies...
Well we're all getting older. This reflects a conversation with my dad, and the bloke who was in MY mirror today....
Jamesb
Written by
Jamesb  58/M/London
(58/M/London)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems