I’m sure I have enough to wear
To last
until I die,
Yet still, I
buy new clothes at times
And you
might wonder why.
Though it
feels good to dress oneself
In something
fresh and cool,
It also
makes the time ahead,
So tightly
wound, unspool.
Since no one
buys a shirt or pants
Believing it
will last
For just a
few appearances
Before one’s
time has passed.
So purchases
become a way
To guarantee
(or hope)
That life
will keep one on its path
And not death’s
slippery slope.
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