Dear Dirty-Old-White-Shoes,

I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye. Mom threw you out like you were some random pair of dirty-old-white-shoes, when you were the apple of my eye.

Dear Well-Worn-White-Shoes,

Do you remember the first time you changed colors? When I stepped into some grass, and it was muddy from the rain. I was so upset that day, until I realized that it was fine, you, my well-worn-white-shoes, were still one of a kind.

Dear Loved-White-Shoes,

You were more brown than white towards the end. But I loved you through those times, through all the puddles, dirt and grime.