Once upon a time....I was very bored, and wrote a little poem. Here goes:
Garden of shoes
If only my 100 dollars were like a seed
which would grow to become a glorious tree
in which perfect shoes grew
organised by colour, ordered two by two.
And if only every season this tree would grow
to create amazing shoes in all vibrant colours of the rainbow.
They would fit in all ways
and last me until the end of my days.
If only there were such a tree,
in which perfect shoes would grow
which never went out of fashion
and which I would wear with the greatest of passion.
I would place them all in what I'd call:
the garden of shoes
[commonly known as my closet].