My suit is my armour
Can't you see?
The cloth turns aside arrows.
The pinstripes protect me.
Let others their worn denim or corduroy prescribe
I am happy when in a suit I am spied
Something that fits- and fits me best
I am not happy in a string vest
Clothing you can wear anywhere
For which few doors are barred
A besuited man is a suitable man at large
Maybe as all formality is dead
Maybe fashion says I should look like,
I just stepped out of bed
But as people judge by looks,
then look and see
As the besuited man,
the smart man,
the well dressed man.
Is visibly me
Friday, August 17, 2007
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