My boots were brand new once.
I can still see the box by my front door.
I can still feel the excitement of the first look.
I can still smell the leather in the air.
The crisp smell wrapping around me.
I can still remember the smooth boot and crisp stitches.
They looked the way I felt the first time.
The first time I stepped foot on an ambulance.
Now they look the way I felt the day I left.
The leather so worn and scuffed
Even the stitches looked tired.
The soles of my boots were long since gone.
My boots are tired now.
They no longer shine.
People scoff when they notice
The damage to the leather.
They see no value in damaged goods.
They see no strength.
My boots were brand new once.
Now they have stories.
Now they have value to me
Far greater than any gem or jewel.
They have memories of good and bad.
The kind that either strengthen or destroy you.