Why do you cherish that old shirt, Dad? Why not throw it out or burn the ragged tat? It's full of holes and worn so very thin,It should have gone to trash long time since then.
"This is memory, daughter," he replies with pride,"In this I danced when young and strong inside.I met your mother there, her beauty took my breath,Fell in love, got married, brought you into life."
Since then I've worn a hundred shirts, it's true,Been everywhere, seen things both me and you.But Mom's no longer here, life passed us by,Yet when I wear this one, she's always by my side.
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