This Fabric Does Not Suit Me

Editor’s Note: The Poetry Foundation defines an acrostic poem as, “A poem in which the first letter of each line spells out a word, name, or phrase when read vertically.” Usually, the central theme of the poem is revealed upon reading this hidden message.

This Fabric Does Not Suit Me

There’s a suit that I keep tucked away,
Hanging in my wardrobe, behind my newer clothes.
Every glance I take, I realise how much I have changed.

Fourteen years since I first laid eyes on it…
Allow me, now, to look in hindsight,
Back to a time when fashion weighed on chasing brainless trends.
Racks in retail shops were filled with fragile, gaudy tat,
Impressive shoes and shirts and hats,
Colorful and contemporary, yet lacking in their substance.

Once, I’ll admit, I sought these things that people viewed as “beautiful…”
Finding my thoughts swayed by spontaneous desire.

Originally, I spied this expensive suit displayed in River Island,
Underlined with crimson curves and shapes that ran red eddies.
Relishing the looks of envy, I swiftly made it mine.

Life felt sensuous when I wore this suit for a time, though…
Opinions of my character were shifting day-to-day.
Very strange choice, they’d say, for someone like me to wear something like that…
Everyone saw how much it was changing me.

Had I listened – understood that popularity was empty,
Allowed myself the chance to think if I actually liked that sumptuous skin…
Separation would have been made much easier.

For a child came from my marriage to this ill-fitting decision.
Red Timberland boots, bought on holiday one year.
And, however much I now look at that suit with scathing eyes,
Yearning to reverse that snap decision…
Everyone I know loves these Timberland boots, and so do I.
Destiny dresses in mysterious ways.