The first sign I hit middle age,
Was around ten years ago.
My hormones began to cease their rage,
To the point of sometimes no go.
Young female beauty lost its power,
I treat them like all others.
They are just another pretty flower,
I hope they’ll be good mothers.
It’s sad that my heart gets no kicks,
From past passions and fears.
But it may be good to save those ticks,
For my declining years.