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Skinny jeans with sharp shooters

Baggy T-shirts sagging to the knees

One would think you are looters

The shame, the disgust, the disrespect

Hanging out in parks with cigarette packs

As you seduce young girls

Shameless you dawn to your kids

With sailing souls and lots of excuses

Lots of talk with no walk

Sophisticated is what you lack

And yet you try so hard to no luck

Wondering whether to dance the right way

Children left with nothing to eat

Menopause hasn’t taken toll yet

To whip you where it hurts

40 years and still wearing skinny jeans

Outfits that the youth themselves

Consider abomination and out of their shelves

Turn and look at your peers

Turn! Turn! Turn! To the other side

As your time, draws near



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