Masquerading
It starts with an innocent pick of a stitch
Then a color drop similar to a small white lie
A stain plops from this nonchalant scab
Then off comes the frazzling buttons and tie
Less care sneaks a peak at the small shiny skin
The graveling unraveling secret begins
.
So hard pressed was this shirt
With dancing steps of starch
Sprayed in those nights of never lasting
Nearer death by hamper closet dark
.
Thrown to the army of salvation
To die in a yellowish mildew smell
Youthful eyes meat conspiring
Inspires a boys escape from hell
The fit was perfect for a lying lad
.
And so it goes to the outcast
From that cynics chest as he neared his last
Reincarnated onto the laughing louder younger chest
Beautifully stained with life’s colorful chowders
Pressing with starch the iron and all his power
Voted best in buried beachwear at the light house festival
When death finally came it was so very hot and peaceful
.
The oceans breeze gave creed to a shirt so freshly freed
The flooded floor cleans the mess next to the lads exit door
The shirt was torn like a well worn murder thesis
But in the end it was happy
Being a shirt worn to pieces
.
He buried the shirt after dressing it
In a newly acquired foul scented vest
Quoting his older brothers eight finger phase
I love doing laundry it’s the latest craze
