Sparkling clean and ironed,
Inked to perfection, not a stitch amiss.
Nothing better than this.
You feel good. I look good on you.
But soon you forget
As you layer me up and I'm left below
Stained, and soaking your sweat.
It's never the same again, is it,
Once I've been through the machine?
Never again ironed, or worn with love,
Or sprayed with perfume or preened.
I take your bodily fluids into my fibres
And do you hear me complain?
I wait and gather wrinkles in a pile
Til you decided you need me again.