Our old clothes are stained rags,
Filled with holes, torn from snags,
Hung from bones since we were born,
Totally tattered and overly worn
But a new wardrobe has been bought,
Paid for with blood—that of the Begot,
Hung from a cross all beaten and bruised
To give us the following, each garment new:
Patience is our pants (both start with letter P)
Our shirt? Think sober of self, a.k.a. humility
Walk in forgiveness (how else shall bitterness lose?)
—Makes sense that it's our socks and shoes
A kindness coat gives an impression that lingers
Mercy and meekness: mittens for fidgeting fingers
I made these pairings, most off the top of my head,
But God stitched them with love, a most powerful thread