Far too many people go out looking rather drab,
As if before they left the house they’d only time to grab
The nearest clothes, however old or dirty or worn out
Most often in some darkish shade; of colour there’s a
drought.
Faded jeans with largish tears which run across their knees,
The very tightest lycra into which they just can squeeze.
Crumpled skirts which need an iron, and tops which barely
fit,
No matter what they wear they feel they’ll get away with it.
Uncleaned shoes and trousers have seen a better day,
With many holes and patches where the cloth’s begun to fray.
Most of them in black or grey or brown or navy blue,
In styles which looked quite shabby even when they were
brand new.
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