At My Age Poem by Phil Soar

At my age, I should be so free
Be doing things that just suit me
Be going places I'd like too
And not be worried what I do

I ought to do things at my own pace
Not worry if I don't shave my face
Not be concerned if I look a mess
At my age, I don't need the stress

At My age, though my bones all creek
And I talk shite, every time I speak
I shouldn't have to watch my 'P's and 'Q's
Or listen to others political views

I should go out nightly, for a drink
Not worry if I have to pee in the sink
Just because I cannot climb the stairs
Or trim my greying pubic hairs

I don't need to 'Tidy Up' down there
Or wash my grubby underwear
I live alone, so who would see
I'm certainly no celebrity

At my age, I should still have fun
Shoot the odd rabbit, with a home-made gun
Shout at my neighbours, or be a prat
Wonder what the police would think of that

I could drive at speed in an ambulance
Scream with delight, if I soil my pants
I should be real stupid for a day
Until they take my privileges away

At my age, it's about the life I've had
And if what remains should make me glad
So I'll take my time in all I do
Until at some age, it will be through