My shoes have reached middle age.
Their soles are worn.
The laces, badly frayed.
They were a gift from years ago.
I love their vibrant colors.
I value these shoes highly.
They are pleasant to wear.
My feet are happy
as I journey across town.
They smile when I walk to school.
However, they won’t last forever.
Eventually, my feet will break out.
Once the edges tear,
rain will leak through the holes.
I want to wait as long as I can.
W. Wayne B.
Kindle poetry chapbook: Poems: Hope and Love
Follow me on Twitter: @williamwayneb
© 2014 W. Wayne B.
Original image: Old’N’Worn. By Peter Kirkeskov Rasmussen Image license