My Huge Shoe Story

Ever since I recall with glee,I pondered if my folks’ shoes, you see,Were so vast, my feet could surely fit,Two in one, a whimsical hit.

So, I decided, one fine morn,To become a stork, reborn.In Daddy’s shoes, I’d take a chance,For storks stand tall in a graceful dance.

That morning, all in slumber deep,Took a shoe, tip-toed, no peep.Both my feet I gently slid,But alas! I tumbled, unbid.

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As I fell, a table’s edge I’d clasp,Mom’s vase did break, a fragile gasp.Startled, they awoke from their dreams,My storky vision not what it seems.

Yearning to be a stork, I’d made a beak,With paper, my storky dreams I’d seek.Flapping hands up and down, I’d play,Stork-like feelings came my way.

Attempting to rise from the floor so low,Mom and Dad rushed, faces in woe.They fretted about the shattered vase,In danger’s path, I’d set my pace.

Mom took my beak, her voice a plea,“Do you know how risky this could be?”Concerned, she seemed, her words so dear,Yet my storky dreams, I held them near.

Dad, he sighed and took me aside,“Walk safely, son,” he softly implied.“One-legged walks, for humans, not meant,Imagine, dream, that’s time well spent.”

So, they taught me, those wise two,Not all things in life, we must pursue.We can dream, discuss, imagine, and feel,In stories and books, endless appeal.

Since that day, I’ve learned so much more,From movies, books, the knowledge store.Storks, their grace, and one-legged sleep,In my mind’s sky, as a stork, I leap.

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