Don’t Let Time Roast You (Revisionist Shakespeare – Sonnet 2 for Gen X)

When forty winters shall have clocked your face,
And carved deep lines into your once-smooth brow,
Your youth, all hot and shiny, out of place,
Will look like some old-ass thing from way back now.

Then beauty, draped in clothes you used to wear,
Will ask, “Who the hell are you?” with a sneer,
And people will see through the polished air
To what was left after your best damn year.

Then were you worth the attention you got?
Will folks still chase the glow, or just move on?
Or say, “Yeah, right, this masterpiece is shot,”
And scroll right past you like a dead-screen dawn?

So make another you while time still bends—
Because this ride, my friend, sure as hell ends.