I can see a lot of bright in you

Your dress I picked up for a measly fifty cents at the thrift store. On a hanger, its nothing special - all rust red and dated but I knew you'd like the rain cloud and the plaid umbrella. You stripped immediately when you saw it, out of your old clothes, teeny tiny not as bold clothes; given a choice, you'd take anything over the predictable. You weren't the first little girl to step into it, that vintage half a dollar jumper, asking for help with the navy buttons before twirling in delight. These hand-me-down clothes, second time around clothes, are all you've known. But then again, they're all you need to make us smile, shine, swoon at the sight of you, showcase the light in you; that dress, any dress, containing your spunk, your spark, your one-of-a-kind-ness, is a good dress, a great dress, priceless.