Boots Poem by Orlando Belo

When I got out of bed this morning,
a pair of boots were on the stairs.
I don't know who they belonged to,
or how they happened to be there.

The black boots looked large and heavy,
slightly worn, so not so, new or old.
The laces were thick and tucked inside,
and the tongue had a forward fold.

They looked really soft and comfortable,
and I couldn't resist trying them on.
They slipped onto my feet, so easily,
and in an instant, I was up and gone.

I could not do anything to stop them,
they had taken control of me.
I ran throughout the day and night,
with no stops for lunch or tea.

I was totally exhausted and tired,
I was still running in my sleep.
I woke up running along a forest path,
which let up to a hill, so steep.

The other side of the hill was a river,
and I was definitely going in.
The water was getting deeper and deeper,
so, I thought I had better swim.

However, swimming was not possible,
I sank and quickly ran out of breath.
Luckily my feet came out of the wet boots,
and I swam up from the water's depth.

I suppose those boots are still running,
and by now they should be out at sea.
I know that I will never again try on boots,
that do not belong to me.