The pain women embrace to look pretty
Calls for someone to write a rhyme or a ditty
And of all the agonies that I can recall
Those ruthless shoes that make us look tall
Top the list of sundry prices we pay for beauty
Why, oh why, do we women wear high heels
Even if it feels like walking on spikes of steel
Balancing self and vanity on a pointy stump
Women everywhere—slight or plump
To demands of conformity, all of us do kneel
Those capricious stilettos, so shiny but sinister
Often leave a mark, bruise, corn and blister
Hurt docile shins, calf, hips, ankle and back
Please someone, banish them from the rack
Oh! Please forbid them, our reverend minister
Inches they do add to a woman’s height
Wonder if the reward is worth the plight
Why does she need to be tall as man
When it was never part of God’s plan
Smaller but no less she is, she’s proved it alright.
[Read Related: The Contradictions of Society’s Expectations for Women]
