The Jean Buying Disaster

The Jean Buying Disaster

Shopping has become an exercise in futility for me
There's nothing out there
For a middle-aged grandma to wear
I just wanted a pair of jeans
It should not have been a monumental task

But there I was, running from store to store
Like a chicken with its head cut off
Finally coming to the realization
That is was not meant to be
There would be no new jeans for me

I did find a commonality though¦
In each and every place
The jeans had no waist
I jumped in numerous pair
And in every one my midriff was bare

Oh, they were cute enough, to be sure
On a lithe young body
With tiny little hips
A scar free tummy
And a belly button ring

But I am painfully aware
That no one out there
Wants to see me
A middle-aged woman
With a caesarian scar

And, the cute little camisole tops
Are made for cute perky little boobs
I'd have to have mine custom made,
Industrial strengthed
At Martha the tent- makers shop

So I went home empty-handed
Resigned, feeling maligned
And I pray that some day
That someone with compassion
Will be in charge of fashion