Your waistcoat fits snug, just right.
You walk proudly, unflinching, with a future so bright.
As your name becomes my name, my waistline becomes tight.
Cinched uncomfortably inwards, restricted and slight.
Society has taught me many things indeed.
That men should wear waistcoats whilst our waistlines recede.
They’ll laugh, as you will, when I complain I feel faint.
Why you may ask?
Why I will say…
Because this corset contraption is hidden away.
Of course, for Victorian vanity, that’s the price I will pay.
Disclaimer – This poem was written quickly, briefly edited and without a specific poetic technique in mind. My main purpose for these fiction Friday posts is to practice writing shorter creative pieces, receive some feedback and hopefully improve.
I hope you enjoyed this short poem, let me know what you thought in the comments.
Until next time keep dreaming x