Pinched Too Tight

On days when high heels pinch too tight
when sleepless nights bring no respite,
when life’s defined by dirty socks,
when morning larks are drowned by clocks,

I’ll have a drink, may sit and brood,
then summon Irish fortitude.
I’m sure I’m born with noble genes
of fairy queens who danced in streams.

Immersed in green tranquility,
I now know why Mum said to me,
when she’d had all that she could take,
“Why don’t you go jump in the lake.”

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