Ode to the Mud on the Bottom of my Shoe

Oh, poor mud on the bottom of my shoe,
Whatever am I to do with you?
You came in uninvited from the world outside,
Who knows where on my shoe you managed to hide?

You seem to have clung to the bottom in a groove,
Sneaking in as if you had something to prove.
Now you sit there dirtying my floor,
Looking content to stay there forevermore.

But... now what to do with you?
Poor piece of mud from my shoe.
Now, what to do about your being here?
You can't stay, that's really quite clear.

I'll just vacuum you up, but oh dear,
The vacuum doesn't seem to be picking you up from here.
Well, then I'll just put the vacuum away,
and try a more direct approach today.

A paper towel should do okay,
To grab you up off the floor this day.
I'll carry you over to the trash so near,
And this is how the story ends for you midear.

For you are quite powerless you see,
Far too weak to resist me.
Now it's into the trash you go,
And it's away for me, off to a show.

For I'm going to a fair,
And sadly, you will not be there.
If you'd clung a little longer to my shoe,
Maybe, then you'd have seen the show too.