“This morning’s run,

No fun,

Body heating up, frying,

My bones crying,

Feeling inside like I was dying.


I’m getting old and weary,

Well, coming up 55 so that’d be the theory,

But I won’t let it define me, age creeping,

No weeping.

You see, I am my soul, which doesn’t age,

It always allows you to turn a new page,

I’ll keep running,

Gunning for those finishing lines.

So I’ll slow down a bit,

That won’t stop me keeping fit,

I’ll have to keep running,

Or I’ll become a grumpy old git!

The body may age,

But the soul is forever young,

The spirit is an eternal flame,

A spark of G-d,

A lightening rod,

And that is what I am,

I’m not an ageing Koby

I won’t go quietly into old age,

I’ll have to be dragged kicking and screaming,

I’m smiling at the grim reaper – beaming.

You see, there’s life in the old dog yet,

Challenges still unmet,

Dreams, aims, goals, a bucket list,

You get the gist.

Don’t let your energy run down with the sands of time,

That would be a crime,

Age is just a number,

Tear up the script asunder.

Remember, you are your eternal soul,

Set yourself a new goal,

Keep re-defining your role.

So, I’m 54, in my heart I’m still a kid,

I’m still a young gun,

Wanting and able to have fun,

I feel alive,

I’ll thrive,

I’ll remain true to the spirit of youth,

That’s the truth,

And I’ll celebrate life, not mourn it winding down,

I’ll wear a smile, not a frown,

I’ll rejoice in the spirit of this poem,

Drink Champagne – make mine a Jeroboam!” – Koby

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