The Story of a Shoe

Crafted I was in a shoe-man house,
My brothers and I were leather bound,
The loving hands that created my soul
Coughing over winter nights forlorn,

I was a dandy of the shop that adorned,
The best amongst the lot,
I stood tall, invincible and proud
For I knew I was priceless and beautiful without a shroud
Of guilt I stood out, craning my neck
For the beautiful dame’s grace
Oh the hands that touch me
The yearning that sets in to please,
This creature with my tease

Fidgeting to fit in right,
Tested and tried- the small walk, the gallop
The squeal of joy, the rush of adrenaline

The journey into the unknown, a land of dreams
To travel and see the world and all beautiful things
The walk, the strut, the swinging motion
The marble floor, the soft mosaic…like satin on rose

Urghhh what happens here, the pushing and the jostling
The feet I adorn, kicking and falling
Collapsing on my soul, this woman of price
A one-dime room and a brute for the night
Kicked, torn apart, raped and hurt
I survive, blistered is my soul
I crawl and lick my wounds

Something ruffles beneath my side,
I heave and find papers with marks of the might,
Scattered on the floor they lie
A testimony to the violence of the night


The hands that bend to collect them let out a sigh
The cold feet grapples for my sight
Kicked torn raped and hurt
I survive, blistered in my soul
I walk the satin rose that hurt my body like thorns


I walk with my head bent low
Counting the pebbled street slow
Bending, twisting, falling, standing
The marathon, I must finish
To my creator I must replenish my soul
To the world adieu I bid
The graveyard of hell I have lived!