Miss High Heels
Miss High Heels
Out of the Honda, let off downtown,
Through gold revolving doors
Miss High Heels would quickly bound,
Take the elevator 20 floors.
In this short span of time,
Inside the doorway of another world,
Using her professional name,
Another Miss Heels would unfurl.
Outside the golden doors,
Jeans and sweatshirts she,
Inside the brass and mortar world,
On a corporate path she would be.
One day Miss Heels will come to know,
Which world is real and which is not,
In a little house by the side of the road,
She’ll find the values she'd forgot.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2017
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