A Fundamental Lament

When I was younger, in my teens,
('round eighteen and a bit)
and long before we all wore jeans,
my pants would never fit.

My Uncle Tom with flippant tongue,
said, "Lad, yer've got no butt,
nought at all to hang 'em on,
them trousers won't stay up."

I felt downright inferior
because I only had,
a miniscule posterior
unfit for any lad.

My pant seats hung in bumless shape
and girls would look askance,
were I to ask them for a date
in unfilled baggy pants.

I'd glance at some young macho guy
with pant seat amply packed,
and covet with an envious eye
a backside that I lacked.

Now, I've a rump that's mildly plump
since eighty years have passed,
and to be blunt, I'm still no spunk
and can't be called well assed.

And now it seems the baggy shape
is the modern dresser's passion,
so for a spate, my rearless state
is very much in fashion.