Worn Souls
Worn Souls The canvas shoes I wear day after day The dirty white soles, white stripes, and grey suede Have taken shape as my feet’s hideaway Now worth much more than the price I had paid Embedded in my personality This pair has been a staple of my attire Holes in the toes were a normality It was so hard to watch them expire My spirit, free from how they felt beneath The way the laces became a tight weave Soaking up the sole with no room to breathe Pulling up hard on the sides as they squeeze Their rips, scars on my memories Their presence, not simply accessories
