on the back numerous hole
quite a few too on the chest
still it clings to my soul
I think it fits me best.

says my flummoxed wife
you’re a miser hopeless
holding on a rag for life
bringing yourself disgrace.

I feign not to hear and shrug
clutching it more to my heart
feeling warm cosy in its hug
my friend the many years’ shirt.

on it lie rivers of sweat
joy and sorrow’s tear stains
time’s all burden of weight
gloomy and dark hours’ pains.

a mere cloth and I find it so hard
to throw it and part our ways
wonder how humans discard
relations grown over years.