Toga Party, for all my friends in our truly Noble Writer’s Group

TOGA PARTY! 2/27/2015, Michael Johns

White togas with gold hem and edges are so two thousand years ago!
What shall I wear, I’ve got nothing to wear, maybe I just shouldn’t go.
Everyone still wears those ugly rags, and those horrid laurel leaves, too,
Last time I tried that with my hair gel, I swear the leaves sprouted and grew!

I’ve got twelve tired white togas with gold hemmed edges, I want something new!
If I can’t wear something different, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
I could just die of embarassment! What am I going to wear?
Die, die…dye? That’s IT! I’ll dye. I’ll DYE! After all, who would care?

What color to choose, any color is better than this awful white.
Perhaps an understated purple, or a soft red would be all right.
BOTH! I’ll do both! What fun, what fun! This party is going to be great!
Maybe two matching togas, after all, I do have to bring a date.

The dye looked great except that the formula damaged all the stitching,
I tried to play cool when they fell apart, that was after the itching
My date was perfect, and looked better un-stitched, I’m not going to lie,
But on our way home, she asked, “Sweetie, couldn’t you have just worn a tie?”

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