My silver blue jeans are the one and only piece of clothing
To make it through my old life— to survive all the self-loathing
To think of all the things those jeans have seen— the things they've been through
They've outlasted ninety percent of the original crew

When mentally I was illing— through the blues bouts, they were there
They toted tissues— listened to me whine 'bout how life's unfair
When I received the news, bone-chilling— they hugged tight to my thigh
Through every scare we jumped together— but I got more high

They covered my ass through many ill-suited situations
Station to station— resettled with me in new locations
My silvers have lined at least eight or nine floors— they've been unhoused
They attracted to me three or four fools that I almost spoused

Those jeans have to of outlasted at least thirteen pairs of shoes
They were there that day when I finally pulled through the misuse
They were held on with a tightly tied string, but with me, they were
Looking not one single day aged— I wish my soul could concur

They show me exactly how I look— they never lie to me
So I went out and sourced myself two more pairs— now I have three
All exactly the same size— my ass hasn't even expanded...
Is my ass silver lined or is it merely silver branded?

#silverlining #wordplay #rhyme
© danie_af