To my little cousin
The one we all call Bec
Today you’re an age I can’t remember
And I can’t be arsed to check.
You don’t look any older
Than you did the day before
Well maybe a few hours
In the region of twenty four.
But like maturing cheese
You get better with a bit more age
The undetermined number
The one I cannot gauge.
But I do remember this
You’re slightly younger than me
Only by a little bit
So I guess you’re twenty three.
Happy Birthday Bec
Whatever your age might be
Forget the end is nearer now
It’s always closer to me…
Statistically!
