Who was i doing this for.
Clattering the pavements with shoes i walk with on sticks making my feet so sore.
As i bear this pain on these poor hardened soles.
As i try to look nice i can never stand the pain or the fact they break and get stuck in holes.
Hardly managing to walk.
Let alone talk.
I want to hurry and go.
I don't want to hang out i just want to go.
Satan in my mind.
Something else in my heart making my mind rewind.
Who was I.
Why to my soul shall i tell a lie.
Well nice for special occasions even then i can't stand the pain.
About to go insane.
Some people get themselves used to it.
I still can't understand a single bit.
Yeah i wear the boots, but the heels are not polo sticks.
They are not stilts, broad and flat.
They might not make this much clatter and this and that.
Except i feel like i am having more fun than you are.
Thank God for better shoes.
At least my boots are made for walking.
Yours might do some talking.
Except Satan can still stand in the middle.
Yet i can take a little twiddle.
You make this unexplainable way of making yourself look this way and for who can you solve this riddle.
You're doing this for nobody as nobody cares.
You stand around in pain waiting for chairs.
Except nobody cares.
Like people said to me get a pair of boots made for walking.
Why make your feet feel this much agony as they already carry your whole weight.
So why for a little comfort you do not offer as God gave you this body to look after so why do you make the agony on these soles have to wait.