Thirty’s just a number…

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Thirty’s just a number.

Well, that’s what people say.

But so is twenty-one my dear,

And that’s a great birthday…

 

Oh God, what does it really mean?

I stare into my glass.

“It means your prime is over…

First your boobs, then ass…”

 

Throughout my teens and twenties,

Thirty seemed SO OLD!

At thirty you were “past it”;

A misery untold.

 

Thirty meant a mortgage,

Marriage, kids, a job.

The thought of the maturity

Would make me want to sob…

 

And yet, do you know something?

Well, so far, thirty’s great.

I never would have thought it…

I thought I’d be a state.

 

Tonight we’re out for dinner,

To toast my thirty years;

This weekend we celebrate,

With family, friends and beers.

 

My twenties had their moments,

Some real highs and lows,

And what my thirties herald…

Heaven only knows.

 

An Oscar nomination?

Travel? Flat? A baby?

Those last three might be possible,

The first one… uh… well… maybe.

 

One thing is for certain;

It really, truly, is.

Thirty’s just a number.

Now where’s my bloody fizz?

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