My Me Doesn't Know

My me doesn’t know that he’s no longer young; doesn’t get why girls don’t turn in whirls to ogle such a hon.

The mirror hints at tales that my me won’t believe of jowls that sag and dark eye bag and stubble turning grey.

And when there’s work to do my me can’t see why the knees both creak, the back’s gone weak... must be some other guy.