Here you come again, shoe two.
Just when I’d stopped feeling blue.
Sometimes, I’m able to dodge.
Even from toes, I dislodge.
But, just as much, I’m squashed flat.
Wipes out third dimension, that.
Then rain comes & fills my cup.
Please don’t clear my grease stain up.
Good comes & I float again.
Next shoe two comes…bite its shin.

