An ode to funky shoes ...

Oh funky shoes,
those with platforms and rhinestones
pleather, feathers, zippers,
those that "talk" to my cell phone.



Where were you when I was 16
or 22, or even 33 years old?
My foot was much smaller then
I had gorgeous feet then, I'm told.



But no, you had to enter my life
at the same exact time frame
as bunions, blisters, callouses,
and things I'd rather not name.



But still, I love seeing you on e-bay
would love to buy you just the same
walk the red carpet, you matched perfectly
to my couture dress and unintended fame.



No, I dare not buy a pair of funky shoes
Lest, my sister viciously accuse me
of trying too hard to recapture my youth
and expose my true age for the world to see.



I show my age truthfully, gracefully
wear what is true, and not "rad"
go traditional, stylish, elegant
Chose classic over passing fad. Sigh ...