I was lean and mean –
A string bean
During my salad days,
But somebody tell me:
What the heck are “salad days?”
I have no clue.

I felt sleek and chic
Though they called me a “geek;”
It was all good for me
When I stood at my mirror
All dressed up in my birthday suit.

If it was “in” to be thin,
I was so hip it was sin;
My body resembled the number 1,
So straight and so tall
With only my head sticking out.
(I guess something had to be big!)

Nowadays, I’m a fat cat,
No longer all that,
And in front of my mirror, I wonder:
Who changed my number?
I can’t blame anyone but me.

This hungry gator who never met a ‘tater
That he could save for later
Has turned into the number 8,
With curves in all the wrong places,
And is now only hip
In the literal sense.

Imagine that…

© 2005 by Robert E. Blackwell