You sat, watching, water beside you, inside you, and yet as you so kindly offered me heat, not an ounce of water was offered, as fire slowly spread.
Shoes Mandi Wright
The sole of my left shoe finally gives out on the path of fallen twigs and leaves. My sore soul needed some repairing, POETRY
so I decide to take a leave. The raw skin of my blistered feet ache more and more as I wander through the forest in these poor, worn shoes. The only way to escape the mind is to walk away all the thoughts. I contemplate plucking the lush, green grass from the dark and rich earth to stuff in my dingy Adidas, so my bare feet can find relief. I refrain though, cause why should I hurt something else so I no longer have to?
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