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
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