Cake, an ode to me

At a few weeks off forty
I really aught to be
Prim in my prime
Made-up to the nines
With sleek, grey-free tresses
In Boden-print dresses
And a twice weekly gym pass
To maintain my pert…
But, my hair looks like grass
Scorched by the sun
I’m a hideous mum
I really should care
But my passion is wine
An inelegant decline,
And I’d rather eat cake.

Copyright Diny FvK



If you like my poem, please share :)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *