Dear Gray;

When you are 60
Will you still listen
To the same crap music
That annoys the hell
Out of most people
But still leave you
To headbang
While stood up
On the bus
No matter what
Everybody else thinks
 

And still wear
Those t-shirts
That look like
They are held together
By bits of invisible tape
And should have been
Thrown away
30 years ago.
 

Dear Gray; 

Will your hair
Still be halfway
Down your back
Even if it is now
Halfway grey
With a big bald patch
On it
Leaving you looking
Like a reject from ZZ tp
 

And your beard
Which you have
Claimed for years now
Besides keeping you warm
Is a handy carrier
If you get hungry halfway
Through the afternoon.
 

Will you still eat
The most hottest form
Of Curry
You can eat in a resturant
Even if it puts you on the loo
For most of the night
Just after you get home,
And drink at least 10 pints
Of lager
Or bitter 
Depending on your mood
Every Friday
In the roughest pub
You can find.
 

Will you still
Work at the same job
Even though you have
Hated it for
Years and years
Even now
And won’t have
Let it eat you up
With rage
And digust,
 

And still live
In the same apartment
Next to the
Same neighbours
That look like
They were rejects 
From Benefit Street
 

Or would you 
Have wisely moved away.