What doesn't kill you makes you stronger

The shoe that hit him fitted like a glove,
though it carried all the condemnation he inspired.
From toe to heel he felt its damning thrust –
the public’s judgement on their misplaced trust.
The shoe’s appeal – its golden buckle gleam,
its patent leather, a tantalising dream –
brought out the Cinderella in this hardened con,
and as any Cinderella would, he tried it on.
The shoe fitted like a glove and he could
count on each finger the reasons why it would:
calumny, hypocrisy, deceitfulness and grift
not to mention his ugliness – something of a gift
to caricaturists and his political foes.
But that, he said to himself, is just how it goes.
It all seemed as nothing as he stood on one heel
and began to realise how a Führer might feel.
Although he hobbled, he threw back his hair,
watched every thrown shoe to make a matching pair. 


Happy Valentine's, gluvvies!