Updated: Aug 2, 2020
It's time to go to the cobbler again.
I never knew it was so fragile,
I never anticipated the weak frame.
The pieces are so small,
They're smooth like sand.
But wait, I see some,
Big ones scattered too.
This time the quantum is reduced,
The pieces have shrunk and aged.
Oh madame, what happened this time!
They're so wrinkled, they look caged.
Were you careless again?
Not looking where you stepped,
Not thinking where you were headed?
Or was it just an accident?
You stepped into shit unknown.
I don't know, I don't think I thought
I was always wary of this lot.
Throw them out madame,
Buy new ones.
Fixing them wont help you,
They're hardly anymore worth a shoe.
Oh, but they're dear to me,
Carrying my weight for so long.
They were bound to break sometime,
Oh, cobbler; do repair them with your song.
But madame melody is not your remedy,
Melancholy may be more apt.
Let me sew the last legible piece,
onto your feet to be tapped.
This should do, its the best i can do,
For the scrap remaining isn't worthy of a shoe,
It won't support your heel.
Much less raise you up like before;
If you must wear these shoes beware -
For you'll always be on your toes.