When he wore it the first time, it was brand spanking new,
But it was just an ordinary T-shirt, the color a brilliant blue.
Wearing it one day, he had a little accident, but was not hurt,
And so, from that day on, he considered it his lucky T-shirt.
I’m trying to remember the exact date when he did start
Regularly wearing that blue T-shirt I bought at Wal-Mart.
Right now, I can’t remember the date, but there’s not a doubt
That he eventually came to wear that shirt day in and day out,
He’d put it on without fail underneath his button down shirt,
And then each and every night, faithfully wash it to rid it of dirt.
It was just a couple of weeks ago that he put it on and it tore.
Annoyed, he said, “I don't need my lucky T-shirt anymore!”
His T-shirt had suddenly become nothing more than a rag
That he casually tossed into a great big, black garbage bag.
Along with all kinds of other household refuse
Went the poor blue T-shirt that was of no further use.
For it to depart was something I could not stand to see
So, I quickly plucked it from its garbage destiny.
Then, I washed the pitiful excuse for a shirt once more,
The one he devotedly wore and wore and wore and wore.
Before placing the faded and torn T-shirt in a little box,
That fit in the bottom of the drawer containing all his socks,
I held it in my hands and felt so very heartbroken
That the T-shirt was no longer considered his lucky token.
Yesterday, it was my fragile heartstrings that he tore
When he boldly told me, “I don’t love or need you anymore!”
Knowing that I was no longer the one that he adores,
I cried and cried, and then went straight to that drawer.
Although I had placed the T-shirt away for safekeeping,
It wound up being the thing that received all my weeping.
That faded blue rag gave me a sort of comfort I can’t explain;
It held my tears as I cried out to the heavens, calling his name.
Now, it’s just me here alone with his worn out, blue T-shirt,
Giving me needed comfort until my heart no longer hurts.