Shoes Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

A new pair of shoes
were purchased last week.
The old ones were so sad
upon my weary feet.

The brand new shoes
still bear a price tag.
The old ones are comfy
even though they sag.

It seemed that something
new would please…
The change was trendy
but, they tend to squeeze.

The old are fondly familiar,
they have already conformed.
No breaking in is necessary,
adjustments have transformed.

The old shoes are like
a pair of my best friends.
Pals who are in step with
the nature of my bends.

They have an understanding
of where I have been.
They are very supportive…
even with soles worn thin.

They breathe in and out…
Though have no lungs.
They do not dictate…
With their silent tongues.

6/3/07