Foot crocked
They issued crutches
Two great sticks
Made of metal and plastic
To help her walk
Or hinder, as was the case,
For she couldn’t quite carry
Her own body weight
So off she hobbled
From A&E
Her arms in braces
The crutches roaming free
But it quickly became apparent
That she needed super human strength
To power down the street
On one leg, the other bent
If only she’d known
She could’ve pre-trained at the gym
Built up some biceps
Got some guns going on
Alas, she hadn’t an inkling
This was out of the blue
Blue being the colour
Her swollen palms now had a hue
As bruises developed
And calluses formed
From pushing down
On rock hard handles that burned
And try carrying a bag
Or picking up shopping
Whilst brandishing crutches
And flamin hopping!
An impossible feat
With one foot in pain
Never mind trying not skid over
When it started to rain!
And then the momentous
Task of negotiating stairs
Gazing upwards from the bottom
Trying not to burst into tears
Should she crawl on her knees
Like a toddler, on all fours?
Could she afford to have a stairlift
Quickly installed?
And how to get down
Once up and scared of heights?
Without a parachute
Oh, f**k, Jesus Christ!
So the bum shuffle it is
One step at a time
Whilst somehow holding crutches
And not catapulting herself and flying 😳
WHY did she elect
To live in the attic?
Three floors above a shop
No lift, how tragic!
Had she predicted
She would be in this plight
She would never have chosen
To dwell virtually in the sky!
But, alas, it was tough titties
This was exactly the case
So she had to soldier on
And ultimately embrace
The sad status quo:
“Come on girl, you got this!”
“Don’t be defeated
By crucifying crutches!”