These shoes that are on my feet,
They are really quite neat.
These shoes are wet,
Wet from the rain I bet.
They are most often not dry,
Ask me and I won't know why.
They are well worn,
Not one bit torn.
They have been to México,
But not to Scotland-o.
No, they aren't that old,
But they have stories to be told.
See the spot right there?
White right here, it adds flair.
That is from painting,
A fence’s white maintaining.
These shoes are amazing,
I will forever be praising
Them for their wonderment-
And how they are so excellent.
These shoes get me from point A to point B,
B to A and where ever else I need to be.
I would like to thank you shoes
For all the times I chose you “Roos.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem