I’m tired of walking in your shoes

Good things come in threes, not twos

The heels are too high, the straps are too tight

The backs are too stiff, the soles are too white

xx

So wear them down perhaps, and loosen the hold

The streets of London aren't paved with gold

Seatbelts don’t help when the car explodes

You know what I mean, but reason erodes

xx

The doctor’s prescribed some comfy flats

And some quality time with your eighty nine cats

If you bin the stilettos and bring in the pumps

Maybe you won’t be so down in the dumps

It's been a day of many realisations... -ponders-