I Want to Get Rid of My Shoes - 8/12

Triolet style poem of what happens when you discard your shoes.

I stubbed my toe.

I want to get rid of my shoes,
I wish to feel the wet grass on my toes.
Instead, I bumped into a rock and got a bruise.
It made me drop my marbles, and I did lose,
My mommy said the toe was changing hues.
Jimmy, my brother, "that's the way it goes."
I looked, and it was red, purple, and blues,
And I got the best hug that only a mommy knows.


8 Lines
Triolet Ryming Scheme