I hate a new pair of shoes,
 For they grate at my heels and abuse
 The blister resistors I've applied to withstand 
 Their sinister stiffness.  I can barely stand
 Much less walk, or run, or dance in these
 Pair of wing-tipped agonies! 

 Oh, why can't technology's ultimate trend
 Develop a shoe that will carefully bend
 Softly and sweetly to cuddle my toes,
 Not tearing and ripping me? God only knows!
 And I'm sure there's a man in rumbly old Italy
 Who's rolling in jest at my bone numbing misery: 

 "I betcha da guy who botta dem boots
 Ees squirming and bleeding!" he probably hoots.
 And I, like a fool, must shriek in pain
 Each time I force them on again,
 Until the day when I've broken them in,
 Then discover a hole where the sole had been!

 And I will buy a new pair of shoes.
 (Oh, how I hate a new pair of shoes.)