Hand-Me-Downs
Those born into a family large will know whereof I speak.
Your chances of donning the newest clothes was very, very bleak!
Alas, hand-me-downs became a tradition at our humble house.
Being at the end of the clothes chain always made me grouse!
I had the dubious honor of wearing things that were always patched.
Color coordination was out of the question since nothing ever matched!
The fedoras I wore flopped down over my very ample ears.
I resembled a tiny Al Capone, embarrassing me to tears!
The pants I wore were wrapped around me once or twice.
"You'll grow into them", said Mom. "For now they will suffice!"
The sleeves of the jackets I wore came nearly to my knees,
Making it hard to find my hands to stifle an onrushing sneeze!
The shoes I wore were usually two sizes too long and wide.
I waddled like a wounded duck with every painful stride!
The neckties I wore were of big brother's dreadful taste.
Looped around my scrawny neck, they hung well below my waist!
Teenage years flew by, a reprieve from this predicament I could see.
The guys in Air Force recruiting posters looked mighty sharp to me!
I enlisted anticipating wearing a snappy suit of Air Force blue,
Only to be issued olive drab hand-me-downs from World War Two!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
