When I was young my mum ironed my jeans
With my clean underwear on I thought I looked keen
But as I grew older and had to look after myself
Ironing your jeans was a sign of wealth
So I didn't iron them to give that lived in hook
When I found that I had a hip new look
Where it was simple just to wash them
And put them on with no need for sloppiness to defend
But sometimes being drip dry would my scene
Walking around in them wet after they were clean
So they are a versatile garment of many uses
Just don't iron them or make any neatness excuses.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem