My Red Shirt

It hangs in my closet 

While the doorknob is closed 

Empty shoulder slumped

The sleeves fall down 

Buttons are undone 

The collar is quite stiff in the hanger 

Small wrinkles in parts of the body 

Still colour red makes it brighter 

Conditioner makes it even fresher 

Still its presence made me 

A little dizzy, because it's too comfortable 

Its lingering smell doesn't let me go 

My old childhood where

I'm still on the sea of old age, 

the shore of early years 

now so far away it's almost out of sight

I'm still a caricature of myself 

And drive my soul into my shirt.