Laces
I could walk a mile in someone else's shoes,
But that wouldn't help me on my path.
The street
The road
That we all choose
But still I stay strong in spite of that
It starts.
A small spot.
An impossible thought.
The thought that
some something somebody knows
could change who I am.
But the feeling still grows,
and as I still stand
my uncertainty shows, so much so
that as I step forth
my right foot goes first
I stretch my toes
and I continue walking
and coming behind my left foot knows
but in my mind a small voice talking
Am I lost?
Still stumbling on this daunting course,
Each inch I forge,
A new mettle forms.
Maleable and soft.
Vulnerable and oft
influenced by some god.
Am I lost?
Should I read the signs, the signs that say
No free thought,
just mandatorily pray
To that which is bought
for the better part of a day
To the one true church's holy dominion
and all night long
To unrighteous scripture based on opinion?
I walk blind.
Because no perspective, point of view, or piece of clothing
no billboards of glamor
or tapestries of self-loathing
could impress on me
a way to dress,
A sense of style.
Because success for me, despite what they say
is not to walk another mile
but to walk another day.
My shoes.
Each wear and tear a testament
to the mercy of the road
It's not the path you walk on
but how you break the mold.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
bacbpoyz
I'm a performer. I grew up with a speech delay because I had trouble communicating with other people, and I became socially isolated because of that. I turned to the stage, as a singer and actor, and that's really helped me pursue my love of the human voice, and my love of words themselves. I've always been curious about the origins of language and I hope to go to college to pursue drama.
View all poems →Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (2)
Log in to leave a comment.