Hand-me-downs are my clothes that others do not like. I understand why my mother does not alter them for I figure she wants to hand them down again.
I wear my hand-me-downs
About which my friends frown
They say why someone like me
Has to be so poor to have clothes
In need of repair
- – -
I try to tell them its wise
Otherwise I’ll not be in such a disguise
You see I play a game about the same
And my mother says she’s not to blame
- – -
So come with me in my hand-me-downs
See how my friends say I’m a clown
“No,” I say, “I’ll go to town
And be in disguise to avoid the frowns”
- – -
My hand-me-downs are baggy
For they were worn
By my brothers before me
Now you can see
Why my clothes just hang on me
- – -
I don’t know why my mother
Doesn’t alter them
She wants to be sure they’ll be
Once again available to share
- – -
You see I’ve younger brothers
Who are looking forward
To the time
When they’ll have my hand-me-downs
- – -
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