A Broken Shoe
Pasting on the sole and a wide
smile, with an air of normalcy
I drag my broken shoe.
I add on some pins and pricks
for a good measure, to hold
the yawning chasm together.
I refuse help, confident in
making it all the way on
a limb and a fervent prayer.
Finally I reach a STOP sign
and look down at the tattered
carcass I’ve dragged to death.
Festering with a futile hope,
my tired, blistered foot has dug
a bloody trail marking my woe.
Forsaking the broken bond,
I forge my path anew, barefoot
Scarred but unshackled.
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