
We dress each day, from head to toe,
But deeper still, our layers grow.
Not cloth alone, but masks we tie—
Some made of truth, some built on lie.
In youth, we wear the robe of dreams,
Of wonder, hope, and endless schemes.
With stars in eyes and hearts so wide,
We chase the world with fearless stride.
In work, we wear the coat of pride,
With stitched ambition deep inside.
We wrap ourselves in woven stress,
And hide our tiredness in success.
In sorrow’s cold, we don the gray,
A heavy shawl we pull each day.
Yet kindness, like a scarf, may stay—
To warm another on their way.
In love, we wear the softest thread,
Of laughter shared and words unsaid.
A fragile lace, so fine and fair,
That binds two souls through wear and tear.
In age, we wear the time-worn face,
A cloak of wisdom, calm, and grace.
Our colors fade, but not our light—
We glow in dusk, as day turns night.
So choose with care what you will wear—
Not just the clothes, but how you care.
For life’s true style is gently sewn
By how we treat what’s not our own.

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