I AM A PAIR OF SHOES

I look brand new.
I look dirty and worn.
I wouldn’t dare stepping in a puddle.
I wouldn’t dare stepping in the house.

I AM WORN ALMOST EVERYDAY.

At night, I am carefully placed on a shelf.
At night, I am tossed to the side on the ground.
I have jewels and rhinestones.
I have laces and buckles.

I WALK THE STREETS.

I walk the streets of New York City in style.
I walk dirt roads in the countryside.

I AM A SIZE NINE.


I am worn by a business woman.
I am worn by a farmer boy.
People compliment my looks.
People say that it is time for me to get thrown away.

I AM UP BY THE TIME THE SUNRISES.

I dodge pieces of chewed gum on the busy sidewalk.
I dig deep into the fresh soil.

I GET STEPPED ON.

I get pummeled as people trail into the subway.
A rake dropped on top of me.
I am clean and shiny.
There are holes in the side of me.

I AM JUST A PAIR OF SHOES.