Someone suggested a long hard look in the mirror might be in order,

And so mirror was stared at and glared at with all respect that was due,

And it's true, the man that used to stare back had become a little fuzzy at the border,

But to my mind, and my eye, he's still there even if he's not so visible to you,

I don't know what it is you expected him to tell me,

I don't know if some epiphany or blinding revelation was supposed to occur,

But the truth he just looked back as he had since our infancy,

A little battered and bruised, slightly amused, and speaking volumes without a word,

It's clear the ember that burns in his heart hasn't diminished,

Though these days it's not so bright in his eyes,

But you're a fool if you think the battering ram of the years means he's finished,

Though it's true to say that these days he's no tolerance left for half truths and lies,

He looks a little tired I'll definitely grant you that,

A little worn at the seams and raggedy at the edges

And compared to the, "Snake hips," he spotted in his twenties,

He'd have to admit that in places he could see a little fat,

But don't mistake aging for raging decrepitude,

There's still life left in the old bones yet,

In fact, "Piss and vinegar," and a fair bit of attitude,

Make him someone quite hard to forget,

Half a century of life on this planet,

Seems to have left its mark in the various scars of his actions

And true he doesn't dress, "Up to the minute,"

But he proudly dresses to his minute, his needs and his satisfaction,

What I'm saying is don't make the mistake of writing him off just yet,

Don't imagine his aging has made him less strong,

He still laughs, he still loves, still carries some burden of regret,

So take a long hard look, cuz if you think he's done, you're wrong.