My Future Plans

I can't wait, for twenty years time,
When I'm thirty-six.
 
And sure,
College will bore,
But Uni should be fun,
And maybe I'll meet a special someone,
Who'll let me follow them around the globe.
I'll then propose:
On a Fijian beach or the Vegas strip,
Or... a Travelodge in Basingstoke, if our budget takes a dip.
I'll be a dad. A great dad.
While trying not to turn mad,
Until I'm thirty-six

When I'm thirty-six,
I'll hesitantly meander the years.
To avoid being fifty-six.

Sturdy through times happy and sad,
I'll become a master dad,
Having optimised the embarrassment caused by my dad-dancing.
While we are eating,
I'll remind them not to make the same mistakes I made,
Knowing that they will.
I'll watch them follow someone around the globe.
Then Propose.
Until I'm fifty-six.

When I'm fifty-six,
I'll enjoy time,
As it inevitably rolls by,
Cruising towards seventy-six.

Less sturdy but still happy through times good and bad,
I'll be a grandad.
In the garden relaxing, watching
The flowers that I planted blossom.
I'll tell stories about the time
I followed their nan around the globe
And proposed.
Until I'm seventy-six.

When I'm finally seventy-six,
After all those long years.
I'll look back to today,
Remember this plan,
And laugh at how wrong I was.