I listen to my common sense;
I plot a course away from here
And tie my laces, taut and tense.
Determined pace, tread hard and clear.

But something's sticking to my sole:
My memories that glue like gum,
And as I step, I feel the pull
Of wishes I can't overcome.

I try to skip so joy will lift
The second thoughts out of my moves,
But as I jump I feel the shift
As hard regrets roll in my shoes.

I move along at brilliant speed.
These little rocks should be ignored.
So to my pain, I pay no heed
Until my feet are red and sore.

But now I have no choice. I stop.
I find a seat and catch my breath,
Pull off my shoes, roll down my socks.
My battered sole, it needs a rest.

I curve my neck to look inside
For sticks that poke and stones that hurt.
I find that on the underside
the sticky gum is mixed with dirt.

You've morphed into a muddled mess,
A ground-in grainy little glop,
And to both glee and great distress,
I just can't seem to pull you off.