inferior

a foot in its belly
hands feeling its tips and sides
the tweaking foot pauses
seems a fit
lots and lots of haggling
and counting of what looked like crumpled sweat-softened notes
finally, off the shelf and into a polybag
going through twists and turns blindfolded
then into a new home, unto a new shelf
nights and days pass by
then the familiar feet return
their owner seems to move in the shoes with caution
and the shoes sense the contemplative steps of their new owner
over time, the two feet lose their sense of caution, care, concern
and the bellies of the shoes have now widened to properly accommodate their occupants
cracking and creaking with overwork and fatigue
until one day they feel ashamed of their state, feeling too inferior to follow their owner into the same town they all once roamed with pride and delight

9 responses to “inferior”

  1. This is very creative, Benjamin!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you ❤️Colleen❤️🙏😊

      Like

  2. Are we talking about new shoes that turn to well-fitting, lived-in shoes. Bless a good pair of shoes. I like your poem. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re welcome ❤️Selma❤️🙏😊 …and thanks for stopping by

      Like

  3. The life and times of a pair of shoes! Well writtem Benjamin.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you ❤️Kim❤️🙏😊

      Like

  4. Very nice take Benjamin.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much ❤️Sadje❤️🙏😊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re welcome ☺️

        Like

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