I remove my shoes beside my bed; Morning comes, I trip and fall And bust my head. What a terrible place for shoes!
Evening comes and I sit down in my room After working like a ******* idiot slave. I remove my shoes, But I feel the pain... So I throw my shoes across the room. Morning comes again; I make my way to the bathroom And before I know anything I'm on the ground. What a terrible place for shoes!
The day drags on as Headaches and embarrassment Follow me around throughout my daily adventures. They laugh at me and grind my cells So I take a few vicodin. The day comes to an end and In my opiated stupor I remove my shoes and Leave them by my bedside Once again. Morning comes And I'm on the ground For the third time.
This is it. I've had enough. No more ******* shoes In the house. I train myself to leave All shoes in the front hall. This should do the trick. I wake up the next morning And all the shoes are gone! Christ... I must have forgotten to Lock the front door. **** kids...
This could be a lovely children's piece sans-profanity! Also, writing this poem as actually helped me stop leaving my **** shoes in the middle of my room or beside my bed.