My muse: A raggedy shoe
Sitting in a class having to write a poem on a shitty shoe isn’t the easiest of feats, but for some reason it reminded me of past traumatic incidents. Here you are.
14 years ago, my daddy told me one day I’d have to fill in his shoes and I thought it was figurative: but well clearly not.
As I now stand in distraught with a shoe more dirtier than not.
I lead myself to a conclusion
among all this confusion;
Why leave me a shoe.
When I was a young imbecile, I thought the shoe must be priceless; being my fathers. But young was I! A shoe entirely worthless, torn up and raggedy. Clearly the old man had no money or actual possessions to leave me, so i guess that justifies the shoe. I digress.
I don’t think the shoe was meant to be worn,
It was far too torn.
If I knew daddy was struggling
I’d finally be able to understand why he was mad when mommy wanted a new ring.
Going on a tangent, poverty sucks! but people have it worse. So grow up and move on, right WORLD? YEAH WELL FUCK OFF! I get to rant too.
I remember when mommy and daddy said they don’t want to be together anymore.
Sad little me who thought it meant gifts galore.
More like greedy little consumerist fuck. But hey everybody makes mistakes as a child.
14 years to this day, I have this raggedy old shoe,
but all I want is a family to go home to.
Well, damn right? That was unexpected. Just like my thoughts I guess. Sad part is I think the young greedy fuck had more clarity than I ever will now.
A Sane Undertaking 