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Nyx Sep 22
I wonder if I'll ever know the answer
Will I ever find the unspoken words between the lines
Racing through the never ending days
Driving past all these glaring stop signs

Will I ever truly feel free?
Will my heart race and soul yearn?
Will it ever beat steady and strong?
Will it grow hotter and burn?

I wonder how long I have left?
Is my forever the here and now?
Is stability and contentment the goal?
Is this the final scene when I take a bow?

When did being healthy and happy grow so loud
Like a broken alarm clock refusing to switch off
Blaring and screaming unwaveringly proud.
Younger me would roll my eyes and scoff

Its as if I'm waiting for that other shoe
That supposed one thats meant to drop
The first is on the floor awaiting
The other held high at the top

Holding my breath and waiting.
Times passing, and I can't help but anticipate
The inevitable feeling of dread,
But maybe its all in my head.
Duck tape that **** so that it never ever fall idk
My Dear Poet Jun 19
my old shoe carries me
through walks of life
the dirt, dust and poo
through to the end
and if my shoe can do
then how much the more
you too, can too
my friend
I want to keep a pair of your shoes;
(not just any pair of shoes)
But ones that you've walked in,
shoes that have ***** laces and have tumbled in dirt-
Because when I' am old and you shall not be here;
as I lay in my bed once again alone-Your shoes will
always be there-
to remind me of the journey's-
you walked in throughout your life and ours.
We are the soul, which is underneath the foot,
as we plant our bases at every stem-
By having your shoes;
they can be entwined with mine.
As a peace offering, that we've walked life together,
and those memories can go on rewind.
and i don't care how stinky they may be...
Dark Dream May 2021
The meaning of love
You never knew
The usage of love
Was like a shoe

You wore it
It served its purpose
You walked on
And gained purchase

It was a comfort
All worn in
It was a conflict
Bottom got thin

Never repairing
Just worn and shorn
And never resoling
What was completely torn

The giving of love
Is like a shoe
The giving of love
Covers, protects, and needs a renew
Yuna-Lee Apr 2021
A shoe that fits no longer
change blowing through the open doors
A rhythm that springs from my core:
My shoe it fits no more
My shoe it fits no more
My shoe it fits no more

Stripped from expectations
guided by a vision
A whisper from the void:
The empowerment of choice
The empowerment of choice
The empowerment of choice
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, things can get brutal?:>



lost and found not seen not bound in the shackles of the bomb an aftermath

peroxiding a shoe hoping to get a flight out of the stew

no one knew

a chase a run a place no fun with bullets upon

in the known classes I see of drops of Mercury

behold bewined stand still in what you crime

hidden on those of the faces before

swept under the rug just for show

before the glint to come from below


                                                                        ------ravenfeels
Amanda Hawk Mar 2021
I live in a shoe
And before you ask me any questions
Or if this a metaphor
Or try to sell me a spot in the latest **** development
Let me assure you, I most definitely live in a shoe
It is the left shoe to be exact
Worn down and some spots extra layers of duct tape
To keep out the winter cold
And when it gets icy, I have to be careful
For if I jostle it just right, the shoe can slide a couple feet
You may ask me why, when, what and how
And this is what I will say
I used to work at a school, a crossing guard in the morning
Lunch lady in the afternoon, and chaperone seeing the children off in the afternoon
And with budget cuts, my job was the first to hit the floor
And so was my pension
My retirement was limited and with no health care
It was impossible to see a doctor for my growing aches and pain
And I was left with nothing, until I came across this shoe
Abandoned and tattered, I took to fancying it up
Scrubbing it out, making it into a home
It took me a winter or two to get the insulation right
And the city has all but forgotten this area
So for now, I am safe
Before the corporate giants clamor over the countryside
Pulling up homes like weeds so they can plant their boxed in communities
I am okay in my little spot
Not long the runaways found me
In school the children always ran to me for safety, and now
Their children have found me, these lost children
We are a little family of misfits, foraging off the land
Keeping each other safe
In a world that doesn’t even care if we are alive
trf Jan 2021
did you laugh in your sleep last night,
how do you suffocate the fear,
can a dream feel your smile,
do your eyes wake up with tears.

empty bottles by your bedside,  
that friendly disguise disappears,
remedies fuel wildfires,
can a heartburn embrace the sear?

~trayfe_creates
i wish i could say that ive got no regrets.... But saying that would be one more to pile on my desk...
I wish I could say I've clung to time like gold...white lies wear black shoelaces
Mystic Ink Plus Jan 2021
So here I go again

If you walk
A mile in my shoes
You may feel it as an adventure
If you walk next 10 miles
You may feel something new
And if you walk for a whole week
About 30 miles or more
You will know
The enjoyable way to take steps
And If you walk for a whole month
You will know the core of life
All that one needs

I walk most often
To get myself recharged
Just what I need
Right at that moment

That's me
That's my shoes
And still

An extra mile ahead
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Everyday Life
Jonathan Moya Oct 2020
The blue shoe on the side of the road
had me wondering who it belonged to.

Yes, shoes are made for journeying,
poised for leaping not yet taken.

They shine with this potential
right off the factory line.

Yet, this orphan
once so stiff when young,

once a tender, warming
friend with each footfall

who got him through  every season,
every pacing bit of worries,

was flung aside
soles exposed,
no restitch present.

No one leaves behind a shoe
not finished with wandering

unless too loose
it falls off easily,

until the foot tiring of the shoe
seeing a light it can only imagine,

of only knowing its darkness
of foot sweats and foot smells,

each step a jolt
and shattering underfoot,

the rising and falling
of the shoe so far ahead

that the foot becomes a ghost limb
in the wings of dust lifting around it

until the errant shoe is left behind
in all the backward movement.
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