The Suit

For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem about an object (or objects). Though you don't have to confine yourself to straight up description, I do want you to focus on object and/or make it a central piece of your poem. One of the more famous poems of contemporary literature does this wonderfully in William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow."

Hanging in my closet
Is a suit.

I hate to wear it. I much prefer the sport coat
or just a shirt.

The suit is for weddings
and funerals.

I wear it to meetings where I have to look nice.

I really prefer to leave it hanging there
on its own wooden hangar
next to an old sweater.

We put our suits on to match others
I never liked conformity. I like to be different
but the suit is there when I have to fit in.

Even though I will probably never fit in.
So it hangs in the closet

dark
foreboding
uniform of conformity

but then I guess
jeans and a sweatshirt
fit that category also

Maybe I’ll just go naked.