Old Blue Jeans 

In the thrift shop of life, I found a new pair of jeans,

Bright denim blue, the nicest eyed scene.

Fresh off the rack, they fit just right,

As soon as I put them on the world felt right.

They were just perfect, every stitch and seam,

I felt like a model in these new blue jeans.

I hoped to hold on to them forever,

But fabric, like love, doesn’t always hold together.

Time's a crafty one, with a subtle art,

It faded the blue and pulled the seams apart.

Love, once so bold, now a softer shade,

Like jeans well-loved, now tattered and frayed.

We change, we grow, and so do our ways,

Jeans that once fit, have now seen better days.

We tug, we pull, we try to make them stay,

But sometimes love, like denim, fades away.

Held together, tight, until life takes a snip,

A small cut starts, and we begin to slip.

Threads come loose, and the fabric starts to tear,

Love unravels, leaving a patch to bear.

But remember, each fray tells a tale,

Of a love that once fit oh so well.

Every rip, every hole, Every torn up part,

Is a story of love, etched in the heart.

And with a heavy heart, will have to let our old jeans go,

But we’ll always remember the love they once showed.

And love, like denim, will come back around.

In a brand new pair, where new love can be found.

Will be so excited to have a new pair,

They’ll look just right, with no rips or tears.

But though this new pair will fit us like a dream,

Will never forget the love of our old blue jeans.

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