People often tell me I look younger than I am.
Some impolite bastards even say I’m lying about my age.
Now, what can I possibly gain from lying,
except some pride?
I have that in small measure, so any source is okay.

But I digress.

When someone does say I look younger,
I am in doubt.
Is she – I don’t care about the men –
complementing my youthful looks?
Or does she mean I’m not wise enough for my age?

This happened frequently
until I found others like me.
I know I make this sound like we are some band of X-Men.
The poet in the poetry circle,
the colleague at my new workplace.
Both older, and yet looking younger than me.

A part of me began dying since then.
Don’t worry,
I still look younger.
Or so I tell myself.

I have advised the poet and the colleague
to take up drinking and smoking,
and have a pizza everyday.


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