Ode to my pants

Mirror, mirror in my room
It’s time to start my daily groom
In previous days, we’ve oft locked horns
Yet adorning myself ‘twill be different this morn

I’ve followed my diet so sure and sound
My middle no longer as wide around
Trying clothes from the closet, I used to hate
With newfound pride, I do not hesitate

My favorite pants are top of the list
Compliments formerly heard have been sorely missed
I yank the trousers around my waist
Anticipating grand results, I dress with haste

At first my feelings are somewhat confused
These pants are too tight; I am bemused
Inhaling deeply, my stomach sucks in
“What’s this?” I wonder. “I’m not yet thin?”

I fuss, twist, stretch, and try to zip
Oh my goodness, did fabric rip?
Standing on tiptoes, trying to be taller
I suppose this should make my tummy smaller

I lift my stomach with one hand
The other is used to secure the band
I reach inside to find the tab
It will not go; still too much flab

I lie down on the bed upon my back
It seems I must try an alternate tack
I heave the snap into its place
Exhausted from effort, sweat covers my face

Rolling carefully and trying to rise
I begin to wonder about my size
It seems I have the slacks on now
Breathing would be nice; I’m not sure how

Stiff-legged I stand upon the floor
Success will be mine if I can reach the door
Like a movie monster, I lurch, not walk
My pants are so snug; I cannot talk

My stomach pains; I cannot bend
“Overstuffed sausage” described my rear end
The button in front is ready to burst
Better do something quickly or expect the worst

Falling against the closet, I remove my clothes
My stomach expands I can feel my toes
Relief comes quickly; blood starts flowing
These pants won’t fit without loads of sewing

Sadly the truth I have to admit
If I wish to wear trousers when I sit
I’m exhausted, tired, and feeling blue
Maybe I’m not yet a 32