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logan-robertsonPoems
In a shoe box he sits Quietly watching the darkness Sitting forlorned He's a sneaker A loafer Tied in laces And hidden in shine Alone As his eyelets sag With hopes the light peeks in An envelope Finding his leather If only he could feel a touch A foot Feet Interaction A women's toes that wiggle On those cold and lonely nights Where inhabitation brings comfort If only He His shoes It could be fitted and fulfilled Tailored and shined And not be a beaten path With wishful thinking Of a women's toes that wiggle For now though A shoe horn would be the panacea His hope From being shelved Hidden In a shoebox he sits Looking at the darkness At the four walls corrugated In lost time Oblivious Of walking Logan Robertson 11/24/2018
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Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 2:25 PM UTC
In a Shoe Box He Sits
In a shoe box he sits Quietly watching the darkness Sitting forlorned He's a sneaker A loafer Tied in laces And hidden in shine Alone As his eyelets sag With hopes the light peeks in An envelope Finding his leather If only he could feel a touch A foot Feet Interaction A women's toes that wiggle On those cold and lonely nights Where inhabitation brings comfort If only He His shoes It could be fitted and fulfilled Tailored and shined And not be a beaten path With wishful thinking Of a women's toes that wiggle For now though A shoe horn would be the panacea His hope From being shelved Hidden In a shoebox he sits Looking at the darkness At the four walls corrugated In lost time Oblivious Of walking Logan Robertson 11/24/2018
For some, life isn't roses. Red blossoms on sunny days. And others, him, sit watching the barren trees of the fall. In their obscurity they are torn.
#sadpoems#shoebox
logan-robertson
Written by
logan-robertson
Anchorage
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 2:25 PM UTC
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