Unlucky 37

Another year, another set of worries.

Long hair has permanently become short

because genetics decided to punch you in the face.

Those ten pesky pounds are persistent,

they wear out their welcome

like an aggressive fat guy at a house party.

Old has become new, except for you.

You didn’t heed the warnings.

You scoffed at your elders

as they spoke of the inevitable.

They told you your heroes would get old and die,

they said your youth would get recycled and bastardized.

Now here you are,

history’s repeated bastard.

Not quite 40, yet far from 30

is a tough break in the 20s.

Welcome to your Lates, old man.

The future is now.

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