Ode to Feet

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These delicate lumps of of tendons, muscle, bone

Carry on for mile, miles all alone.

As their master's eyes close

To escape from it's woes,

These small little toes will keep fluttering along.

 

Now whose feet are these?

Are they fairy's?

Is she bitter, salty, spicy, or sweet?

Is he big, small, strong, or petite?

Does it matter who owns these wonderful feet?

When its master is done, these feet carry on.

 

Wondeful, remarkable, beautiful, worn out feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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