An Old Loved Shoe
By Timothy H
Footsteps running on cold hard ground,
around
around
around
Whoops of joy, yells of glee,
my shoe, shoe and me.
The taste of glory, the feel of success,
no rest
no rest
no rest
An old, loved shoe that feels of winning,
the beginning
beginning
beginning
If my shoe is taken from me,
I’d be a shoe without a sole.
Luckily, my shoe is with me,
and that’s all that matters,
all.