In this oversized jacket 

I hold a feast of burdens.

Yet, the pockets are so large

they barely bulge.

Maybe they sink a little

under the weight of it all,

but the fabric, old and worn,

bears the burden placed upon it.

 

The tight, woven synthetic polyester

has held together for so long

with unrelenting strength.

Staying intact just enough

to remain a comfortable garment.

 

Its flaws have been thrown to the way side,

discarded without second thought.

When it is thrown over shoulders,

it is zipped and then worn out into the cold.

The wind is bitter but the air

isn't too bad.

 

The day the pockets broke

was especially cold.

The wind whipped and whistled,

the air snapped.

 

The burdens, once so artfully

wrapped in warmth and protection,

fell victim to the weight of a downward force.

The coat unzipped,

the fabric stretched so thin, and

the seams ripped

until it was Too Damaged

to be worn again.