That old abandoned shoe,
the one that hitchhikes
on the side of Rt. 100
says “save me”
on my way home from another
day of work.
I try to block the cries
but still it looks up through
shoe-lace eyes
and a busted rubber sole,
“Please,
help me.”
Sending poetry to the world
That old abandoned shoe,
the one that hitchhikes
on the side of Rt. 100
says “save me”
on my way home from another
day of work.
I try to block the cries
but still it looks up through
shoe-lace eyes
and a busted rubber sole,
“Please,
help me.”