Terminal Poem by Pensive Phoenix

Shook and wrung
It’s feathers thin
Hanging limp upon the line
It’s creases gathered at the hem
Cross stitched along the toe
It’s washed anew with ‘I love you’
And bathed deep in gold
It’s robbed of any remedies
Waves over in the cold
It soon begins to tear and so
There is nothing they can do.
It was a lovely jumper;
It kept out the frigid cold
Dyed quite in scarlet
It was a rarity back then
And now it rots beneath my feet
Between the scarlet shrubbery.