An Old Friend Passing

I have on an old tee shirt that I've worn
these many years; it's threadbare, stained and torn.
The dye has faded, it used to be coal black
but it's lost it's rigour and the neckline's going slack.

When I take it off tonight it's for the bin
or cut up into rags for polishing.
And I'll feel like giving thanks to this thing
I spent those many years being in.
Published
Categorized as Poems

By Arthur Richardson

Very part time poem maker. Retired from paid work.

6 comments

  1. LOVE this a lot–great rhythm, and so relatable! I just bought 4 new over-size black t-shirts…they’ll probably outlive me at this point 🙂 Thanks for visiting my blog so I’d know to come over here and have a look-see 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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