Where’s My Shoe?

By Kaitlyn Grissom

Oh why, oh why can’t I find my shoe?

I’ve got so many things to do.

This isn’t right!

I’ve looked all night

And they’re my favorites, too.

Tell me, sir, have you seen my shoe?

The soles are brown, the laces blue

I can’t believe,

I can’t conceive

Where it could be!

But if you see it, please retrieve

My poor brown-bottomed shoe.

Tell me, sir, how could all this be true?

For if you like, I’d write book for you

Or do some math

Or trace a path

From here to Timbuktu,

But I must be getting old, you see,

For often it’s been told to me

When your hair gets thin

Then the rot sets in

And you’ll get lost in your own backyard,

But mostly it gets very hard

To find your missing shoe.

Oh, hurry, sir! Come help me look

And maybe I will write that book

And do that math

And trace that path

From here to Timbuktu

But soon I’ll have to take a bath

For the sun is sinking low

But lo! I think too slow.

My brain is getting far too old

But worst of all, my feet are cold

And I might just catch the flu

But I still can’t find my shoe.