Crucifying Crutches

Foot crocked

They issued crutches

Two great sticks

Made of metal and plastic

To help her walk

Or hinder, as was the case,

For she couldn’t quite carry

Her own body weight

So off she hobbled

From A&E

Her arms in braces

The crutches roaming free

But it quickly became apparent

That she needed super human strength

To power down the street

On one leg, the other bent

If only she’d known

She could’ve pre-trained at the gym

Built up some biceps

Got some guns going on

Alas, she hadn’t an inkling

This was out of the blue

Blue being the colour

Her swollen palms now had a hue

As bruises developed

And calluses formed

From pushing down

On rock hard handles that burned

And try carrying a bag

Or picking up shopping

Whilst brandishing crutches

And flamin hopping!

An impossible feat

With one foot in pain

Never mind trying not skid over

When it started to rain!

And then the momentous

Task of negotiating stairs

Gazing upwards from the bottom

Trying not to burst into tears

Should she crawl on her knees

Like a toddler, on all fours?

Could she afford to have a stairlift

Quickly installed?

And how to get down

Once up and scared of heights?

Without a parachute

Oh, f**k, Jesus Christ!

So the bum shuffle it is

One step at a time

Whilst somehow holding crutches

And not catapulting herself and flying 😳

WHY did she elect

To live in the attic?

Three floors above a shop

No lift, how tragic!

Had she predicted

She would be in this plight

She would never have chosen

To dwell virtually in the sky!

But, alas, it was tough titties

This was exactly the case

So she had to soldier on

And ultimately embrace

The sad status quo:

“Come on girl, you got this!”

“Don’t be defeated

By crucifying crutches!”

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