S H O E S

My brand-new shoes are not soft, unlike the worn-out one ... Used shoes are made in the clouds, made of cotton .. .the fresh ones are wild and rude ... They love to observe me bleeding. They are lead feet when stepping ... They are giant menacing that drag dust. They are not feet of angels that carry us to float. They are thirsty warriors who worship torture. New shoes sow pain and agony, create despair and unease. They smell the fresh thing, soft thing ... BUT ... FINE THINGS, THEY ARE NOT ... They lead us to cry ... in the modern saga, I follow unable to walk, fresh shoes weigh ...!

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Jeff Connelly

Date: 8/1/2019 4:25:00 PM

Yeah ouch, such poetic talent spells out in a singing imagery the difference between old and the new. I totally poetically agree Alkas. I sadly have to say I need to buy a new pair of Timberlands. They are all I wear, other then being barefooted. BUT I dread trying and buying a new pair. Even when they seem to fit, it takes one hike to realize they are not your friend, yet you depend on them; so they are less of a symbiotic relationship then I am the host to the parasite living off of my feet.