What an Awful Jumper | A Poem

I hate that jumper.

It’s far too loud.

Far too busy,

Like 1982 threw up and called it fashion.

I hate that jumper.

It’s not appropriate,

People are staring,

And you look like a man with a lava lamp collection.

I hate that jumper. It’s too hot for dancing, Our outfits don’t go together,

But it did help me find you in the crowd. I hate that jumper.

But it washed pretty well,

Stayed really soft,

And required no ironing at all.

I hate that jumper.

But my favourite hoody,

Is in the wash-box. And this one smells like you… so it’ll do

I hate that jumper.

But I’m not going out,

So I might as well,

Wear the same thing I wore yesterday.

I hate that jumper.

But I washed it again,

And folded it into your pile,

With all your other strange choices.

I hate that jumper.

But I’m having a shit day,

And I could use a hug right now.

So I’ll put it on and pretend you’re here.

I hate that jumper.

But it does look good on.

I’ll put my hair in a scrunchie,

And pretend I've travelled back in time.

I hate that jumper.

But if its only worn inside,

No one will ever see it,

We can share it on lazy days.

I did hate that jumper,

But its grown on me,

Made its way to your basket.

And never quite back upstairs.

I like this jumper.

But I’ll never admit it,

So stop asking.

And no… you can’t have it back.