The old dirty torn underwear stood up one day
Climbed onto a window ledge forty one stories up
And announced an intent to see the world
But before stalking off in a stiff fabriced march
It gave some context and thoughts
A brief spurt of soliloquy
"I have lived long
And been worn longer than I should
I've seen skid marks by the light of a new born moon
A wedgie so tight as to test the atomic bonds of cotton
Once I hung thirty feet in the air
From the branch of a two hundred year old tree
While all the universe was ablaze above me
Rotating about the North Star
At least from my perspective"
The fruit of the loom paused pensively
"I want to see more"
Then turning to quickly leap into the gap
Never to be seen again
An old crusty pair of underwear up and run away
Just as mother always warned me they would
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