Memory On Our Shoes
We earn our scars
When destiny arrives to kneel
At our feet.
It is death that kisses our
Shoes,
Then simply turns and exits,
Leaving lip marks
On worn leather.
It is time that
Teathers thick hide.
We can look down
And know the travels
Of our soles
And though the lip marks
May fade,
We will always know they
Were once there.
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