The Textile of Sadness

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There is a textile of sadness

It drapes heavily over the body

The colours are somber, very dark

Saturated in tears, deepening the hue


It drapes like a full length cloak

Smothering the slighter form of the wearer

Head to toe, no light able to intrude the gloom

Increasing the pale pallor of those adorned in it


It smells of wet dog, left on its own to dry

Inadequate drying time bolstering the odor

It has a penchant to grow black mould

Resulting in spores erupting all over its surface


There is no tie dye effect able to lesson the dark

No light colours of joy bleeding through

The dark hue is a solid colour block throughout

No hint of the person struggling beneath peers out


It is time to shrug it off, throw it to the floor

Step clear of its weighty shadows, walking free

Wearing it only as an accessory, like a funereal requirement

For appropriate moments, before returning it to the wardrobe


Sadness is a textile that needs to be confined

To those moments when appropriate but as a visitor

Not the enduring textile of our lives, worn forever more

To reduce the risk of permanence wash with bleach

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