Dressed To Fit In

The clock tick-tocks slow today.
I have rehearsed and re-rehearsed what to say,
Waiting for the time's alert to play.
For short, she is Miss Bake,
My name was no longer Tok but Blake.
My T-shirts swapped for suits to fit into the fake.

The clouds of size and judgement gathering over the Father's countenance
In silence, my heart counting it's chaplet of penance.
Apprehension, my worst nightmare may chance
In spite doubts, the father had a rich warm handshake
Miss Bake still seems a mix-take and mistake
So I brace me to swim my precarious lake