It is that feeling you get
When you approach your dresser drawer
And you find it devoid of solace
All that is left is disappointment
The wash was procrastinated
And you are stranded
You are relegated to wearing THOSE underwear
The ones
that twist
Ride up and
bunch
Have a hole
in the wrong spot
Pinch your
bits
Fail to
support
The dreaded backup pair
You should have tossed them
Long, long
ago
Before this tragic day
Before they could torment you again
Going commando would feel better
But you live
in a society
What would people say?
What if you got in an accident
Or your
pants spontaneously combust
These are arguments to consider
So you succumb to social constructs
Put on your best face
Attempt to
hide the active mutiny below
Sneak an adjustment here and there
Stroll to the throne room
A couple extra times
So you can sit for a few moments
Released from the iron maiden
Residing in
your trousers
Though brief the respite
It gives you
strength
In the face of crushing torment
Gird up your loins little camper
Tonight the
wash will be done
Then once again you can drop yourself
Into the
drawers that feel right
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