Living in a shoe, wondering what to
Do, with nowhere to go and nothing
To throw.
Was thinking of moving, but everything
Was grooving remembering you.
Then I had an idea, why don’t you move in
too?
Then it would be cramped and everywhere
Damp. Maybe it would be better to move
Out and camp in a field, with nothing left
To yield, other than live in a shoe, still
Wondering what to do.
Poems By ken makepeace 