Thoughts on the Shirt

The day started normally, Like it always does,

And nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Not until 3^rd period when I decided to make my best (or so I thought) better

And that senior boy gave me a look I wouldn’t forget.

It wasn’t quite a frown but that didn’t mean he wasn’t smiling.

So I sat at the back of the room and as I faced forward I found that the

Senior boy was wearing almost the same shirt I was.

And I thought, “well it must be the shirt”

So I continued on and people kept telling me how much

They loved that shirt.

And lunch came and so did hunger, but as I was walking out of that

school another senior boy

Did a miraculous thing that puzzled me at first.

All he wanted was a handshake.

So without effort I gave it to him and It didn’t occur to me

until I was facing a wall in the music building;

“Well it must be the shirt” again I thought. So I told you about my mess of a day

And as I walked to English class it started hailing, which seemed appropriate.

And even my English teacher had some words on it, which I liked.

When he announced we had a test and I asked what we could do to study for it

He asked, “Are you religious?” There was a pause.

But before I could utter “Not necessarily” he interjected,

“With that shirt? Of course you’re not.” This time There was no doubt;

It was the shirt.

The problem with making that assumption all that day is

When I heard that you were in the hospital, the first thing I thought was

Well, It must be the shirt.

But it wasn’t.