My Shoes

You don't know fear 'til you've lived in my shoes.

You live every day afraid you'll lose 

your balance, respect, or the friends that you have.

Lots of long and fancy names for the things that cause

all the fear that you carry around in that bag,

kitted up nicely so you don't seem to lag

behind the other students.

But lag all the same,

you have no one to blame

but God.

Asburgers, Muscular Dystropy,

pragmatic socially or otherwise, 

cannot hold it, cannot hold up.

And yet I seem to, owl-wise

in how to hold my head high, 

the crown slips on those who slouch, princess.

That's how you'd survive in my shoes.