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.
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