I can’t be bothered caring about the way I dress.
I wear my clothes in wrinkles and my hairdo is a mess.
I don’t file my ragged nails. My cuticles are snaggy,
and please don’t bother telling me my pants seat is too baggy.
The only thing that bothers me is folks who are persnickety––
who adjust my collar, smooth my tie or pick at me.
If only they’d leave me alone to be who I am.
Why obsess about my looks when I don’t give a damn?
The dVerse Poets prompt today is to write a “bother” poem. Image from Unsplash by Daniel Pascoa, used with permission.