We are writing metaphors and dragging them out today over at dversepoets.com Karen is the host.
Lace hangs her head sadly these days
thinks she has been profiled,
feels alone, betrayed
She thinks style has given way to trend,
she's destined to a dull life,
won't talk about it,
feels close to the end,
she cares too much what people think
She wants to do as her peers -
go somewhere different everyday
in all kinds of weather,
travel more, hang out with the sweaters
French, Swedish or Irish Lace
make beautiful souvenirs,
but Lace herself is a complicated beauty
She dazzles the eyes of many a man,
but lately is reluctant to appear,
would rather be a recluse
Lacking feelings of self worth
she is depressed with growing fear
of other fabrics take the limelight,
new designs and textures steal the day

tired and old-fashioned; people will look
the other way
Satin is a cool competitor, as is silk,
but Lace just doesn't care anymore
Other fabrics mix impressively -
jeans and linen changing their roles;
new designs like flannel shirts and bling
Lace would like to be more useful
when it comes to attire
Tired of hanging with ribbons,
she wants to be more versatile
She'd like to be cotton, ride in a rodeo;
she could be sewn into uniforms, sportswear
be attached to winter coats
All fabrics have their ups and downs,
ins and outs as to what is popular
She'd like to be on hats and pants,
not always in wedding gowns
But she needn't be envious
for she's much more than she knows
She's the shape of trees and shadows -
black negligees that frame the stars at night
Lace is the bed of flowers on a spring morn
She graces women's heads as they grieve
She's a spiritual, intimate friend, birds in flight
the edge of a hanky that wipe away tears,
the object in someone's art
Perhaps if she reads this she will realize
she is blessed in all our eyes and hearts
“If you are always trying to be normal, you will never know how amazing you can be.” - Maya Angelou