Oct 11
poem 0 comments challenge: Shoes
Sophie Bee's picture

(Cog) in the Machine

I step into my frayed loafers
And head out for the day.

My feet quickly grow hot, encased inside 
Faded and rough leather.
I learn to ignore this feeling and continue my day
running errands and receiving orders, 
I go numb without even noticing.

I am simple.
I do not want for much.
I do not need nice shoes.
I am not passionate about my work.
I am not passionate about anything. 

(am) I am content (?)

I come home and take off my shoes
And ignore the new scuffs on the toes.