Payless Shoes

Ah…who could forget their teenage years? So full of hope, opportunity, friendships, hardships, and angst. Here’s a stupid poem I wrote when I was 16:

My love for you is no more than,
A pair of Payless shoes,
The kind that’s been returned three times,
So the price has been reduced.

Oh yeah, you’ve got a way with me,
With words I can’t describe,
You’re the used-up, dirty, Payless shoes,
That I never would buy.

Though I stuck to you a solemn time,
Like some gum upon the sole,
I live off you no longer ’cause,
There’s no value you behold.

With my laces all untied now,
No, I need not tie them up,
And you do not mean much to me,
For your soul is full of junk.

You’re the beat-up, worn-down, Payless shoes,
That I don’t need no more,
So just cast away upon that shelf,
And just rot there in the store.


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