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It should be easy, should it not?
To get the hang of up and down
That makes the IP swing and trot
And cloaks the poem in its gown.
If done in style, that is the crown
I`d like to wear just once with glee;
But I feel just another frown
While counting feet, one two and three.
But more should grow, just like a tree
not stacked like bricks, as children do
my goal looms just in front of me
then wham, the foot sticks in the goo.
Doc Martens and High-Heels donít mix
Erato plays her dirty tricks.