All feet on the same ground,
Only shoes differ,
Some show their toes,
Some one and a half,
Some lifted three inches higher,
Some resting melancholy,
My feet are misshaped,
One foot lifted naturally,
From the earth,
Just a tad though,
Nothing to worry about,
Then some feet covered in full,
From the toes to the ankles,
Guarded maybe?
The world is dangerous and uncertain,
Some are guarded more,
Like the ones wearing,
Boots, covered all the way,
Up until the knees,
Some barbed with laces and wires,
Fighting battles,
Like a gladiator,
Some wrapped in ribbons and bows,
As a present to someone,
But, on some occasion,
A nice little shoe,
With blinking lights in the back,
And a squeak,
Squeak, squeak, squeak,
And, joy looks like that,
On the face and in the feet,
Poetry led me to see feet,
And, there are so many kinds,
When they are covered in shoes,
Naked they are feet,
Naked they are same.


One thought on “Feet.

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