Shoes and Rocks

My life is like a shoe. A shoe filled with glue. Thinking I’m stepping into something helpful. But ends up taking a toll. Sticking to my socks. I can tread rocks! But as I become worn. I wish for a shoe horn. What I wouldn’t do. To walk the beach without a shoe. My shoes were trusty. But are now rusty. If my feet were bare… My joy I would share. I wish for a garbage can. A can sitting on the sand. That I can toss my shoes into. Running into water that is blue. But instead, I stand on level ground. Walking without a sound. Sitting in a bench alone. Nothing to do but roam. Roaming on the hard earth. This is the life I have unearthed.