His sneakers would squeal on him if they could talk
Groaning under his weight as he took a walk
They felt all worn out
Carrying a man so stout
He went places where he shouldn’t have been
Them shoes, literally let out a scream
So they gave him shoe bites, sore toes
Adding to his list of woes
They stuck evidence on his sole
He fought barefoot to salvage his soul.
yaskhan 
The life of a shoe… The things they see. 💕
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reminds me of how I used to think of how my things felt if i misused them…:D
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What a thought !
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🙂
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Shoe-bites: how novel and suggestive – I now have a companion ailment for my blister-rubbings to keep me balanced. Thanks, kind lady. Must hurry to see what Shawn is up to. For mayhem I will take MMA, but nothing beats the Church of Professional Theatre-Wrestling for everyman cautionary tales told by imaginative dancers.
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Hey Jewitt, thanks , love the beard
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It forces me to wash more frequently than is my sometimes wont – and brushing hair is a self-love reflexive delight during which time I host arguments with that mirror-madness who can’st compare with me. I had shorter hair in high school than the Marines required…and sometimes I miss the Dial-soap shampoo routines and the forty-seven second showers. Still toying with the unshedding of manes – for forward and back – and a return to the fold…for one exact day. Shaving hurts and cultivates a rash below the jaw I find most annoying.
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