Somehow when days are filled with stress

I find that it often helps to dress

In something comfortable to wear

Like my oldest most worn out pair

Of frayed and faded blue jeans

They’re torn and pulled at the seams

But still when I pull them on my legs

The pressure melts from the days

Of deadlines, memos, expectations

Supervisors condemnations

Perhaps it’s simply how they fit

Whether I clean the house or sit

Watching shows that entertain me

Picking at the hole around my knee

Sipping black coffee hot and steamy

Imagining places more dreamy

Than the drudgery of modern life

Seems like little more than strife

Yet my old blue jeans remind me still

That life can be adventure, a thrill

So I’ll wear them, and wear them again

Because the real journey has yet to begin