The Wrong Attire

Not an ounce of flesh that shouldn’t be seen,

Was seen,

A dress from the neck to the knees, covered,

Hid and covered,

My arms in long sleeves, despite the heat,

Gave off heat,

My head capped in a tricky hat,

Replaced hair with hat,

I was modesty herself,

Being modest,

As I made my way to the prayers on this Day of Awe,

In awe,

There and on the way I was met by a sea of white,

Pure white,

Sleeveless tops, low cut and see through,

I could see,

Trousers with pockets of cellphone,

Phones smart and not,

When one white clad friend looked at me in shock,

Quite shocking,

And asked me why I was dressed like that,

Like what is that,

The color red was offending,

An offence,

White and any measure of exposed flesh is okay,

But not red, for this holy, holy day.

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