The Latest Ripped Jeans
Stains on my shirt
holes in my pants
My wardrobe’s Salvation Army
not quite Paris, France
I cry all night
grief fills my lips
While the other kids
wear the latest ripped
Jeans, for which they paid
a fortune each, though poorly made
My threads cost nothing, my life’s a sham
better to be naked than what I am …
O, Lord, let this poor soul know
that life is long, there’s a ways to go
When he’s ninety-seven, no one will care
if the jeans on his knees were not threadbare
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2024
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