The Sage

 

My poor old feet were younger then

I remember when

Platform shoes were all the rage

With jeans with dresses

That’s all you wore

For 8 hours as a clerk in a department store

But fashionable I was going to be

Hell or high water

My poor old feet and me

 

I remember how the balls felt

I limped when no one saw

Calf muscles joined in stretching aches, pointed toes

To kick them off what a blessing

I feel it to this day that relief from pain

What crazy thinking yet I wouldn’t sway

I had my way and that’s how it would be

No suffering too great in the fashion industry

For my poor old feet and me

 

Working at a bank, Corporate Teller, here, here

Fancy title at least there I could hide

I slid out of my heels behind the counter

Where no one could detect out of sight

Should I walk to the vault back on they went

One woman asked how I did it all day

To be able to stand walking with such grace

I confessed I did not leave them on

Watch now as I return I’m shorter you see, naturally

 

Loving my secret she knowingly smiled

Noticeably I stood lower to the ground

So you see it’s possible then

To exercise some sense as one moves on in years

To learn a few tricks and be comfortable while looking chic

Take practical steps

Pun if you will

Be a good friend when you can to your poor old feet

That’s the trick

 

 

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