The snowstorm is being a jerk.
I own boots for hiking;
They're not to my liking,
So I check the closet and smirk.
Normally I'm not high fashion,
And shoes really aren't my big passion.
I choose boots for real
That have semi-heel
To go through the snow and rain splashing.
Before I head out of the door
A beer can I squash on the floor.
The heel of my boot
Makes the canister shoot
A foot and a half -- maybe more.
At work I forget that I'm taller
By boots that are higher, not smaller.
I misjudge a drawerThat never before
Has made me so horribly holler.
I whack my knee once and then twice
And want to scream words that aren't nice.
I've a room full of kids
So I put on the skids
And send a coworker for ice.
I've learned a smart lesson, it's true:
"Don't wear boots so high just for view."
Ow, my poor knee,
As plainly I see
A bruise that is blackened and blue.
