The Hot Pink Shoes Poem by Patti Masterman

I was always late to the banquet,
Or the fabled buffet ran out of food too soon.
The bridesmaid shoes dyed hot pink,
To match the dresses perfectly, pinched my feet;
Mine were three or four sizes too small.
But I had to wear them anyway because time,
You see, was running out; and where else, do you think
You would find that exotic shade of hot pink?

The wedding seemed to go on for hours;
And I had to stand still, in the front of the church, smiling
As the shoes devoured first my feet and then my ankles-
The cramping rose to a crescendo and never became less.

Later, removing the offensive shoes forever,
I knew that I would have no fancy wedding,
With specially dyed shoes, to torture another girl-
Because the clock would be ticking,
And where could you get that exact hue?

They never knew about my secret pain,
And the much-vaunted marriage dissolved all too soon.
But my feet miraculously remained unscarred,
They showed no marks from the crippling effects of the shoes.
It's strange how unbearable pain can leave no outward sign-
Except in memory- where it will always remain
That exquisite color, that is found nowhere else.