As soon as certain words connect…
Like shopping’, ‘shoes’ and ‘style’,
I find myself in solitude…
My family run a mile.
They’re used to all the cursing,
As I grumble, spit and moan,
They all abandon ship
And leave me shoe-shopping alone.
I need a pair of simple shoes…
The kind you’d wear for best.
You know, the type of classic style
That outlives all the rest?
I used to wear my heels to work
And walk and drive all day,
Then don an even higher pair
When I went out to play.
But walking dogs through muddy fields
And pushing round a chair,
I’ve ended up in comfort shoes
I barely know are there.
And this is good, for over time
I have abused my feet,
So, with arthritis, cysts and wear
I must admit defeat.
I’ll never wear the heels I loved
To reach the heights they gave,
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