A Project for Better Journalism chapter
Creative Writing

Shoes: A Reflection from the Past

I have been said to be many things:

An accessory, a beauty necessity, a gaping sharks mouth

But with everything stripped away, I am a guardian.

I’ve traveled to places only few have ever been;

Learned and relearned many things.

Long ago, I realized that Life is a harsh master:

Demanding that I eat dirt and things unnamable to man

So that the warm softness inside me would stay pure and unblemished,

Protected from dawn ‘til dusk

Yet at the end of the day I was kicked aside,

Unappreciated.

Every day, the sun rose and set,

Rose and set,

Rose and set.

And finally, when I was old and worn inside out,

When my soul had been eroded through and through,

I was thrown out to the barren wasteland

Where unfamiliar wind whistles its way through my holes.

With purpose in me, I was a hot, a stifling oven.

Now without, I am empty, a cold, useless husk.

I’ve traveled places only few would ever go

Learned and relearned many things.

But since my view of the world has persistently remained the same,

Really, have I seen anything?

 

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