I pity my poor P.T. dress,
It cannot handle so much stress.
Every time I try to play,
No matter how clean I want to stay,
It never, ever works.

When it started, the day was bright
But the rain had left a muddy blight,
On the school grounds, a trap for me,
A person scatterbrained and clumsy,
It takes no genius to guess what happened.

The soccer ball had rolled away,
I travelled through scum all the way,
Picked it up, turned, then slipped and fell,
With a very startled yell,
And lo! I was brown all over.

My uniform was...