We keep within us all, imprisoned,
An older double – rather wizened,
Wrinkled, haggard, skin more grey –
That never sees the light of day
At least in normal circumstances
But elbows forward, grabs the chances
Offered by those kinds of cases
Where our usual cheery faces
Are wiped away by too much drink,
Conundrums where we have to think
Occasions we are really ill
Or – quite exhausted – sitting still.
That’s when this inner me appears
And adds an extra 20 years
To my apparent, outward age;
The problem now has reached the stage
Mine ventures out when I am sick
– Or when he spots a selfie stick.
