Consistently, since I started this blog nearly 1 1/2 years ago, this poem has been the most looked at and popular post. Honestly, I have no idea whatsoever why this is the case. If any of you can enlighten me, please do.
The day I met Tom my toenails were hot pink.
A big mistake!
He called me the lady with the hot pink toenails.
I am not a hot pink person.
They should have been red or orange.
I am an orange person
mixed with lots of red.
It took me two weeks of looking
at those hot pink toenails
to paint them red.
Am I happier now?
Not really
but I know
it is the real me,
my own toes when I look down.
When she painted them pink
the woman said,
“Old ladies want red toenails.”
Will I be able to look at my red toenails
even though I like them and
not think “old lady”?
Will I have to find a new color?
Probably.
Maybe orange marmelade or cinnamon spice or burnt sienna.
These toenails are painted Cajun Shrimp.
writingontherim 