Squashed up toes, like nobody knows
Begging for fresh air
And wishing you’d just care!
The callus heel is so coarse
Is there no remorse
To end this hibernation ordeal?
Dull and lifeless
As if you couldn’t care less
About pinkies 1,2 and 3…
Yes, a coat of paint!
It doesn’t take a saint
To help them escape from boots, socks, the lot
Your nails will beam and shine
Ah! Heaven divine
It’s good to see those guys again!
A spring poem for feet by Donna Thomson, 1 April, 2019
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