Shuffling forward slowly
On cardboard fitted soles;
Rancid bits of leather
Held in place by weathered twine.
Shoes that tell a story
Of bitterness and pain.
On passing by
With head bent low,
Silent screams of sorrow
Pierce the air with every step.
Linda Batchelder
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-shoes/
