I was bad.
I took a wrong turning in life:
I got old.
I didn't mean to.
Perhaps someone led me astray.
Perhaps I was weak.
I just got into bad ways:
and I kept doing it:
kept on and on being old.
So I got my punishment.
Fair dos.
I was caught.
Sentenced to death.
Part of herd immunity, they said.
But I got a reprieve
thanks to doctors and nurses
who seemed to think I shouldn't swing for it.
You never forget things like that.
I'll always be grateful to those people
who saw a bit of good in me
in spite of everything.
I'm glad I've been given a second chance.
I'm trying not to be old now.
But it's hard.
I get tempted.
I look in the mirror
and see wrinkles
and start to stay to myself,
'You're old.'
But you have to stop yourself
don't you?
because being old is dangerous
when you're around people
who say your time's up,
you've got to go...
