My pants are too long Frayed at the edges I’m guilty of caring less Just as I care more Ironically, I blame my height The plague of petite affirmations. I don’t look in the mirror But others do. I’m elderly, not wanting to change Stubborn in keeping blue jeans That flair or hug too tightly at the ankle. They’re names for these. Flared, bell bottoms, Or skinny jeans. I snip the hems as they fray Cut the seams to widen. I can afford a seamstress but I don’t notice till my friend offers to teach me to sew. I’m not offended, Just sheepishly embarrassed Caring more, than less.
We can be super sensitive about our weakness, take the high road with reality. I'd love to hear from you. I'm at http://www.abberolnick.com
