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“I have some bad news”

The doctor said with a sigh

Put his hand on his temple.

“You’re going to die”

The man gulped

“Are you sure that’s the case?

I really feel fine.

Let’s run some more tests

Buy some more time.”

“I’ve done all I can!”

The doctor did cry

“There’s nothing else,

I’ve done my best.”

The man choked out,

“How much time do I have left?”

“Tomorrow at tee time,”

Was the doctor’s reply.

“That’s four in the afternoon,

You poor, poor, guy.

You best make out your will”

“And,” he said with a cough

“Be sure to pay this medical bill.”

And that was that

He was through.

His life was over

What could he do?

How would he spend

Those final hours?

He didn’t want them to end up

Bitter and sour

Then a light came to his face

“I’ll find the perfect pants!”

They’d be the ones that fit just right

And, of course, are not too tight.

Then it was decided

His mission would be

To find these pants

For all to see

Perfect pants, perfect fit.

And no crooked seams

He started his journey

These pants he must find

Because of recent news,

He hadn’t much time.

“I’m sorry to bother you,

I know you’re at home.”

He had more bad news

The doctor said on the phone

His tee time

His death

Has been moved to noon.

“Good luck with the time

You have on your hands

Curses! I just hit my ball in the sand!

Well, if you ever want

To golf-oh wait, that’s right

Um, I’m sorry. Have a nice night.”

And with that the doctor

Hung up the phone

And now the man

Felt really alone.

But he shopped for these slacks

In the chicest boutiques

Where the clerks all stand

With their stuck up noses

While sad people browse

Through overpriced

Um…clothes-s.

He tried ever size

Every imaginable wash

They cost a fortune

And were worn by the posh.

But something was wrong

With this fancy couture.

Something was indeed wrong,

But he wasn’t quite sure.

He walked through these stores

Till day turned into night

Trying on every pant

Until one fit just right.

The lights went out

All over town

The only noises were

The sleepy sounds

Only his feet

Hitting the ground.

How he went

Empty-handed

And spent

Only one day left

And the perfect pants

Still not on his shelf.

He’d start at daybreak

His search would begin

He’d search for these pants once again.

Groggy and lonely

He crawled into bed

While visions of pants

Not sugarplums

Danced in his head.

The next morning came soon

He looked at his watch.

6 hours till noon

He’d find these pants

He was sure of it now

He’d find them

Or else he’d burn

Down the town

The thought of death

Made him hysterical, you know.

Twitching, suspicious

Giving everyone a nice little show

He’d cry and scream

At the pants, you see

He was sick with fear

Consumed with fear

“The Grim Reaper is near”

But his quest started again

He searched the stores

From floor to floor

He watched from a distance

“There goes my life out the door”

Looking down-trodden

While kicking a rock

Looked up for a moment

And saw something

That gave him a shock.

Frayed and faded

Worn thin from love

From the window he saw

His pants from above

The little thrift shop

Filled with clothes disregarded

While the pants sat waiting

The pants his heart desperately wanted

He put them on in the cramped fitting room

Filled with cobwebs and dust

And memories too.

The fit is perfect

These worn out jeans

“They’re worn in” he’d say

Perfect, even with

These frayed little seams

The pants

Perfect in their faults

His mission had

His desired results

“What a nice man,”

The old lady thought

As she put away his change

“I’m glad I sold him

Those nice pants today.”

She hoped he loved them

As much as their previous owner

And wouldn’t just leave them

Crumpled in a corner

As the man walked home

His pants in a bag

He loved life

And everything he had

He pulled them out

These pants

Ravished by moths

He put them on

Friendship in cloth

The pants of dreams

And memories long sense past

Of love and loss

These pants were all he had

If you didn’t know him

You’d think he’d be

Quite sad

But in fact he wasn’t at all

He had lived his life

Seen his last fall

He lied on the floor

In his perfect pants

To open his eyes no more

Took a deep breath

As the clock struck noon

He died with a smile

Not a moment too soon.