(A re-post from a few years ago and a photo from many years ago when I was young and beautiful)

 

I miss the man that I used to be

That athletic man that used to be me

For when I was young

I was tireless and strong

I miss the man that I used to be

 

The man I see in the photos of him

I tall and muscular, dark and slim

But this was a past

Forbidden to last

I miss the man that I used to be

 

And little in confidence did he lack

His hair so sleek and Sicilian black

It’s now white and thin

And parodies him

I miss the man that I used to be

 

He’d walk down the street as ladies passed by

And once in a while he might catch their eye

The memory stays

But not nowadays

I miss the man that I used to be

 

I gaze each day in the mirror of lies

A grey weariness now shown in the eyes

No longer the lad

Staring back is my dad

I miss the man that I used to be

 

There’s pride and there’s pain in these memories

As I count the hours to my seventies

With some little sorrow

I fear for tomorrow

I miss the man that I used to be