A Broken Shoe 

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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