Saturday, 3 November 2012

Old Shoes (Poem)

17.3 Old Shoes 

A pair of stilettos, beige, brown and black
Now on their last legs, displayed on the rack
High heels that strain, my calf muscles in vain,
Wolf-whistling and whispers, no pain, no gain
Pity the ground turned to mud in the rain
Coz one heel got stuck,  what utter bad luck.

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