Why wait until I am old to stop caring what people think?

Why not sing at the top my lungs today,

in the street,

no matter the reactions?

Why not wear crazy outfits combined out of clashing colours because who cares?

Why not write whatever I want, even if it is “junk” to some,

because writing is something I do for me anyway?

Why wait until I’m 90 to die my hair purple,

To drop my dress at the door and live life without inhibitions?

Why not get drunk at my brother’s wedding and invite all the stuck up ones to dance with me,

And have them talk “badly” about me for years later?

Why not pretend like I am 18 again,

if only for just one night?

Why wait until I’m 90 to set perfectly loving boundaries?

Or look back at my life with great pride, joy and nostalgia?

Why wait until I’m 90 to walk slower, take up space and ask for help?

Why wait until I’m 90 to love everyone and everything with great passion?