Every time I move around,
You hold my feet to the ground,
I bought you from the fucking store,
I always needed shoes, some more.
You almost pulled me through the window glass,
The feeling was greater than frass,
And then I walked with you the first time,
I was arrogant but I felt a grime.
It poked me here,
It pinched me there,
And then I felt my ankle clamped,
I pushed you away with all my might,
But the more I did, you cuffed me tight,
Who would believe my stilettos are haunted,
They would term me mad, I daunted,
And now I am a prisoner worse than jailed,
Shoes to my feet are almost nailed,
They think I am mad, when I beg you for mercy,
Some laugh at me and suggest I get a matching jersey.