My bunions are gifts from my dad – they stay
there’s no magic pill that can whisk them away
but they make it hard to fit into shoes
that are pointy or narrow or give me the blues.
My flat feet are gifts from my children – all four
there’s no point in styling them down on the floor
they’ve grown three sizes since I was single
I guess it won’t hurt if I try on a shingle.
With trouble a’bending and puttin’ on airs
I best be barefootin’ than sitting on chairs.