Perfectly middle aged

It’s a joy to be totally healthy

As my laptop boots up on the train,

And to know that I’m really quite wealthy

With a house, plus a villa in Spain.

But this feeling of loss never goes now,

And this feeling that I've been caged:

I suppose this must be what it feels like

To be perfectly middle-aged.

Yes, my family’s perfectly darling,

And my friends influential and bright;

And I’ve switched to Rioja from Carling,

Yet I still wake up screaming each night.

And at work I am known and I’m rated,

And I win corp’rate battles waged,

And I dress in Paul Smith (understated)

Since I’m perfectly middle aged.

And I’ve dabbled in shares and in stocks, mate

Because profit’s no longer a crime.

No, I don’ t watch a lot on the box, mate -

Cos I really don’t have any time.

So I’ve started to listen to arias

And I went to that Damian Hirst cow.

Yes, I’m really now jumping the barriers

To be perfectly middle brow.

Yes, I’m terribly cosseted, matey,

And my life is a little cocoon.

And I’ve noticed that sometimes, just lately

I start thinking: Please, Death, take me soon.

Where’s the passion, the joy, the exploring?

God - it’s years since I felt outraged!

Maybe that’s why it’s perfectly boring

To be perfectly middle aged.

Shall I compare thee to an iPad 3?

Thou art less awesome and thine apps don’t rate.

Fair art thou now, yet fair from fair shall flee,

And soon thou shalt embrace thy mortal fate.

But iPad’s mint good looks shall never fade,

And yet more functions Apple shall bestow:

Amazing software, retina displayed

Shall e’er amuse me, when thy wiles shall slow.

iTunes, iPhoto: thanks to Jobs above.

Dost think that thou with Angry Birds compare?

My iPad 3 – my joy, my life, my love!

Eternal loyalty to it I’ll swear:

  So long as I can breathe, I’ll love it more,

  At least until they ship my iPad 4.