Juvenile Poetry on a Shopping Spree

Juvenile Poetry on a Shopping Spree

Saturday, 31.03.2007. 0219 hours.

Shopping and having iced chocolate at Dome,
Though I have a full wardrobe sitting at home.

People constantly wonder why I bother,
I always buy the same things, over and over.

Vicious cycle, similar cut,
And I wonder why I'm stuck in a rut.

I choose fashion over style,
What I get is a dose of bile.

I make a mad dash for the latest bandwagon 'thing',
I flounce and prance and think it's so the 'Bling!'

The colours stun, but the cut does not,
I throw it on and call it hot!

I talk the talk, I walk the walk,
While inside, I'm fragile like chalk.

The grey of the piece obviously don't flatter,
Yet I simply refuse to choose something better.

I care not for taste, I care not for class,
Does it surprise you my choice is so crass?

About time I stopped this catwalk disaster,
Lest I be the next annual source of laughter.

**Performs designer bow and exaunts to: 'I'm too sexxxyyyy.....'**