I
am not
an ageless male
living life beyond the pale,
taking super T
to boost my sagging energy,
or using magic V
to resurrect a fallen tree.
I refuse
to stem the tide
of years advancing on my pride,
to banish grey
the Grecian way,
or pay for hair replacement schemes
to halt the spread of baldness
from my genes.
I will not keep my fingers in the dam,
trimming off a kilogram
just to recover with a gasp
what has long since slipped my grasp.
Sure,
I must look quite the sight
with hair that’s turned
from grey to white,
while wearing a bulging belt of fat,
ignoring a stomach
that once was flat,
or stumbling through the day with yawn
for night time trips to and from the john.
But
let’s embrace
and learn to swim with grace
in the waters of old age.
Let’s reinvent the way
we age
and step outside
our man-made cage.
Let’s not medicate or camouflage
or make it
something that we try to hide,
but show our years and wear them
like a gleaming badge of pride.
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