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Ode to my Lulu's
For much of my life, I swore to withstand
To buy the pants, I knew would expand,
The affectionate stare from unwanted men
Especially ones named Ben, Glen and Ken.
Although the amount of unwanted men was increasingly high
I knew that one day I would wear them without feeling shy.
One leg in, I already knew
That these pants were about to be my new boo.
The softness and comfort I was surrounded in
Felt like I was swimming in my own skin.
Like a cake with no frosting,
Or the sun without the moon.
But how would someone pay 90 bucks for a pair of pants,
Because they surly replaced the idea of butt implants.
They felt like sweat pants, yet I knew they can’t.
So why do they tease me with their beautiful love chant?
Even though unwanted men stare,
I know the wanted ones are fully aware.
That these pants were heaven sent
And that they were meant to cost every cent
My love affair with my Lulu’s is truly abnormal,
But in the end I know they will be known as profoundly formal.
I know it’s wrong to feel affection towards a store
But without them, everyone would be a bore.
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