Nov 24
alhaag's picture

The Glass in My So(u)l(e)


The glass crunches under my feet

The shards reminiscent
of my shattered soul
Crackling under the weight
Of the burden on my shoulders
As I strain for footing
On the slick wave of crystal
The soles of my sneakers
Take the stabs without complaint
They are good soldiers, protecting
Their homeland my feet
As I plod along a dangerous course
They don’t question me,
Not even for a moment
They simply follow the demands
Of my marching feet
Left, right and the glass
Slashes, clawing at my skin
But it cannot reach me
Through the caring shell
My soles
Do they have
Souls of their own
Do they even know
The things they do for me
If soles were souls, would we
Treat them with respect
The way they deserve
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