Onesie Day

Today will be a Onesie day,
A day when I don’t dress,
I won’t bother to shower
And my hair will be a mess.

I won’t have any visitors,
So no-one gives a shit,
And even if somebody does,
They can just get over it.

My Onesie is a cheapie,
From a Skipton market stall,
I look a bugger in it,
But I don’t care at all.

It is warm and soft and cosy,
In pretty shades of grey,
Shows off my age and figure
In an most unflattering way.

Delivery staff will curl their lips,
Neighbours will be shocked,
But nothing of this matters
When my door is firmly locked.

Today I have my Onesie on,
Over my pyjamas,
And unbeknown to everyone,
It’s my cosy suit of armour.

Lynne Joyce 21.10.2017 (exactly two months since Garrath died).

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