Standardisation Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Standardisation

Was fun to have it made
By tailor, shoemaker
According to your taste.

Had chosen the colour
And knew my favour
In cloths and leather…

So gave jobs to masters;
They had ways to measure.

The tailor checked shoulders
Side to side, left and right,
Abdomen, height and chest.

Then went back after time
A hello, saw the job
Put it on to try if was right.

Shoemaker did the same;
I stepped on paper
He drew line, around.

Each of them knew how
Work for me, satisfy
My need, taste. also want.

But today we check malls
For what is fixed in size;
Medium, large, small
Or numbered low to high.

I feel like bolt and nut
In machine or the car.

Come Charlie, the Chaplin
Take a wrench to save me;
Do not want, nor intend
To see me like machine! ! !

What is this standard?