empty hangers

i’m looking for the laundry list

          to find my favorite shirt

i wore while dancing in the mist

          till i fell in the dirt

 

i asked my wife why shirts would leave

          and she said look again

it seems in parting i will grieve

          and blame it on my sin

 

and so i checked the dryer sheets

          but they clung to my pants

that long ago had lost their pleats

          cause treat them right i can’t

 

i checked the baskets where i throw

          whatever falls in dirt

but there’s no reason that i know

          that i can’t find my shirt

 

and so i sulk on closet floors

          where other shirts still hang

i never thought i’d feel this sore

          but oh my gosh! and dang!

 

i want my favorite shirt to be

          my favorite shirt i wear

but now that it’s abandoned me

          i’d rather be quite bare

 

so think on this if think on me

          you will do at all

my life’s a shirt that i can’t see

          and i am quite appalled

that nothing more becomes my life

          my moment and my day

then things mundane causing me strife

          affecting me this way

 

***