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ADS Mar 2017
Tired and worn
Discolored mix of gray whites and blues
Distressed laces that once kept it together
Are Left in thin shambles laying so weakly through each disfigured loop

The stories they have carried me through
Stories of pure joy and happiness
Stories of pure depression and tears
Unfortunately their last story has been completed
For they have tired and can travel no further without falling apart
I have worn the same shoes off and on for four years and today I finally replaced them. Then I got thinking about all the things I have done in those shoes.
Dawn Treader Mar 2017
Warm fuzzy slippers still sit where she left them
A beautiful lady closed her eyes for the last time
They took her pulse
They took her body
They took my love
They left her favorite shoes
In the foyer they sit
They wait for her
Never to be filled by those tiny feet again
My grandma passed away this weekend. It is surreal to see her belongings still where they were when she died. Almost like she hasn't left me.
Disjointed and ajar
I left the windows to my reality
too far open for far too long
and the judgements got in
the doubts collected
the inflicted pain pooled
puddling at my feet
and somewhere along the way
you flew the coop
leaving me stuck sitting there
with cement shoes on
that I never could get off
again


   Feb., 2017
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
I call my shoes doxies
'Cause they really get around
Just like the hookers
In the sleaziest part of town.
They started out rather nice
But now they show their years.
They look so much better
After you’ve had a couple beers.

Come with me, Doxies.
Let's us take us a stroll
To a cheap bar I know.
Not much money in my roll.
I need to meet the kind of gal
Who won't look at my feet
And think I am cool enough
To wink at her on the street.

I still have some swagger left
From when my shoes were new,
And I can still bust some moves
With a fancy step or two.
The shine on my Doxies has not
Stayed as they were long ago
But I'm sure they'll serve me well
For maybe another year or so.

My Doxies are a bit beat up,
But still they have some verve;
Just enough class that we
Can throw a hot babe a curve.
So don't look down on my Doxies;
They're the only shoes I've got.
They get me where I need to go
And I really like them a lot.
Graff1980 Jan 2017
Darkest black treading dirt
Left impression for their worth
White stripes across the side
Streak into the evening sky
Like a flash when I run
Flickering becomes a dying sun
Potential of what will never come
So I run, I have to run

Old laces dusted *****
Push them through the holes
In a hurry
Rushing now because I’m worried
The sound of sneakers pounding dirt
The sound of how much it really hurts
So I run, I have to run

The soles so loose
Sound funky when they flap
Still I love those messed up shoes
Which is why I’ll never take them back
When life is hard when it starts to sting
I turn around and start jogging
I am not a prisoner, I was born to be free
Even if all I have are these old shoes
To chase away those heavy blues
I will run until I am done
I had to run, I always run
Samm Marie Jan 2017
Hey nice shoes
     Wanna trade?
Haha, sure, I look great in heels
     That's good, because they are killing my feet
Oh no! That's awful, here let me help you
     Haha, thanks. I like your eyes
I like your jacket
     It was my dad's
That's so cool
     I like to think so
**** I'm late for class
     I'll still trade you shoes
Maybe later Beautiful
Fishbowl assembly 2016-2017 school year
C F Tinney Jan 2017
I found a pair of shoes while walking
across a bridge like I often do
Neatly placed below the rail
as if they expected you
but you shall not return

I found them on my stroll to town
which I take on Sunday am
Neatly placed there
as though you’d come again
but you shall see them no more

I dare not disturb them
These shoes which do not know
that I gazed upon your presence
In broken disregard in waterway below
for you shall see them no more

Instead I walked onward
with errands far too many
And attempted not think of how your shoes
reminded me of me
and my desire to join you there

and be seen no more
Poem speaks for itself
sura Jan 2017
Your shoes,
I saw them lying neatly
Side by side upon the bridge.
Laces untied; socks in a crumpled bundle inside
As if you had just stepped out of them,
As if you had just left them on somebody else's doorstep.

Gingerly, I picked them up.
In the air I let my questions hang.
At what point in your life
Did these blood-red sneakers turn almost white?
Since when did its crisp signature logo
Turn into an unreadable smudge?

Worn out and faded,
Tattered and almost unrecognizable,
I barely knew the thing I was holding in my hands…

Perhaps you were too busy running
To even notice its deteriorating condition?
Never mind the cracks on the surface,
The thinning soles already caked in mud,
As long as they take you away from the darkness
Which seems to follow you everywhere.

For the last time, these shoes have served you.
Brought you in this unlikely place, on this very bridge.
Where you left them lying neatly side by side
As you took the way out, barefoot.

Hoping someone would step into them,
Feel for answers with their own toes.
And finally understand that
There were no haunting shadows in your pursuit

Because all this time

The darkness has always been inside you.
cait-cait Jan 2017
happy New Years to
the girls like me,
who forgive and forget as if
yesterday didn't hurt
and tie knots over wounds
like they lace up shoes


happy New Years to
all the boys who still cry
at night, over
their fathers who don't love them
and things they were never
taught to say

and happy New Years to
everyone in between, to those
who can't tell black from
white,
good from bad, and still don't
know
how to dress at night

tomorrow might be better.
I wrote this at 3 am but let's hope 2017 is a good one
Two cardinals bathe in the creek as I'm lost in thought about how beautiful you seem to me
It's true I was thinking about you
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