Upon a time, I had two screws
Within my life, upon my shoes.
Held in tight, against my sole
Where I could not refuse.

Then one day most unexpected,
Solid threads had been rejected,
Leaving open space that I had
Thought was well connected.

The clip I hear, just as before;
Like tap-dancing across the floor.
But half the power holding strong
Is not there anymore.

Now one is left, and though it might
Still keep me pumping through the night,
There’s something missing in my world.
Next time I’ll use Loc-Tite.

2 Responses to “Half”

  1. 1 Squeak

    It happens. Be careful, that shit causes chemical reactions and smoke and fumes. You should probably just check your screws on a regular basis and make sure they are carefully holding on tight…or make adjustments before they are gone.

  2. 2 Kevin

    Sometimes so much crud builds up from being walked on that the key just bounces off.

    I got a new one installed though.

    One of the above is a metaphor fail.

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