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She never liked the sound, twas always a nagging rustle

When she wore her longest skirt, over that annoying bustle

Wanting more freedom, from those cumbersome togs

She threw on her mini skirt, the kind in those catalogues

All the other women, looked at her, oh! Quite distraught

Melanie paid no mind, never giving it a second thought

In fact she found them amusing, all she could do was gloat

Knowing they’d never be happy, in those plastered petticoats


November Writing Prompt – Plastered petticoats – Day 18/30

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