"Patent Leather Shoes"

My shiny shoes like to squash ants and talk—

But mostly they like to walk

All over me, I say stop! Shoes stop!

I can’t take it anymore—don’t take

A step once more.

Let’s sit a while and rest,

Don’t put my patience to the test.

“Shut your mouth!” my shoes say to me,

As they look up at me square in the eye,

And with a swift reply I say,

“Shoes, you will not stray!

We’re staying here, together, alone.”

But my shoes, they hate staying at home.

They scream and they wail,

“You horrid, plump whale,

Let us run and be free”—is what my shoes say to me.

“You shoes, can’t you tell—exercise of any sort

Makes me feel unwell, I’m tired, torpid and fat.

You say run, but I cannot do that”

So my shoes were silent a moment, as if pondering mine reply,

Then without a sigh, they started eating my ankles!

Or what some would call cankles,

They ate as they pleased, up to my knees,

With their leathery lips—up to huge hips,

They gobbled up my torso,

Without any remorse, Oh!

They were eating me alive—what could I do?

Each devilish shoe,

Munching and crunching my bones and my skin,

And I find it half a sin of course,

That exercise is forced

On someone who is lazy—

And you can call me crazy,

Because this story is real,

I cannot feel—for my appendages have been bitten,

Off by shoes that were smitten

With exercise and freedom,

My shoes you can see them,

Walking me off.

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