Miles and miles in my high-heel shoes,
Pain seems to walk around like a foe.
Inches taller, does it really matter so
As to hours of deforming my poor toe?
Toddling along, I try not to tumble or fall
Like a leaf in the wind I cautiously stroll.
How come female elegance be such defined,
For which ladies pay much and themselves bind?
With the feet ached and the arches hurt,
How can one give her whole wit spurt?
Alas! Standing on spikes seems destined,
Since I tend to feel like a sloth in any flat.
Oct.22,2009.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem