An Ode To My Toe

You brought me great pride; you were part of a set
You were primped, preened, cared for undeniably, yet...

On that day in Chicago, in the sweltering heat
I crossed that finish line, oh, was I beat!

It took a few miles, but I hobbled to the tent
You'd been hollering for some time now, with many a vent

I sat down and untied my trusty old shoe
To see my sock discolored, and that definitely wasn't blue

I pulled off the sock, a fellow runner leaned in
"Oh my, that's impressive," he said with a grin

For out of my sock came not a toe, but a plum
Deep purple and red; I grasped what the pain was all from

Weeks went by and I managed to keep you, in fact
Your whole body went black; but the toe stayed intact

I went to the spa once; and then of course again
Massaged you, scrubbed you and painted your tip with a grin

But even as the weeks passed by and by
You continued to complain and I wasn't sure why

But last night it became clear what the problem really was
You did the thing that a runner's toe often does

And my perfect red toenails dropped from ten to nine
As you shed that red shell with a tiny little whine