Reclaim the Shame

This is a poem for the system - the system that evolved to shame people who wear second hand clothes. The whole crazy system we have somehow created where kids jeered 'Gyppo!' and 'Fleabag' to you in your jumble sale jumper and shoes; the ones you pulled out of that Saturday-church-hall bag that mum hauled home, the things you were so happy with until they shamed you at school. No more shame.

Reclaim the Shame

Have you ever -

Walked onto a flight, and

Turned left and not right?

Stroked the seat in first class,

Toasted your fine-living ass,

Tipped back, and sipped drinks in the sky?

Luxuriated late from your 5 star room sleeps,

Gliding bronzed limbs over Egyptian sheets?

Wrapped yourself dry in your gown at the spa?

Dashing for dinner dates, sat at the bar?

Dined in the restaurant,

fine silver forks?

Porcelain plates and glasses of port;

Napkin pressed politely at the end of each bite?

Knowing your etiquette’s perfectly right -

The elegant life - where everything’s fine,

And not in the slightest bit different to mine.

You see,

I also use things on their second time round,

They’re probably used less than your sheets, and that gown -

Certainly less than the glasses and forks

That have been in the mouths of the people before.

So, don’t look down on my second hand coat,

There’s no shame hiding here to enable that gloat,

We need to keep using the things that we make.

You may turn left when you get on a plane,

But you also use second hand - so we are the same.

Anna Kilpatrick

Not Needing New