Velcro to Laces

I wore them everywhere I went,

tied on tightly, laces choked with tension --,

until kicked off, scattered across the floor.

My foundations, holding my weight,

protecting soles, fueling stride.

creasing with every step, wrinkling, losing color.

I had them in my strolls,

the road smooth and steady, spring breeze, soft greenery.

They held me up, collecting earthly stains.

But the walks continued.

I look forward now upon my journeys instead of down, postponing patchwork,

tongues grating against my indifference.

I have them in my hikes,

the rocks biting at them under heat, jagged and troubled,

Yet they hold me up, collecting scuffs and tears.

Despite the tears collected,

they stay -- steady and secure.              And I fail to do my part,

repairing only as they peel off my feet.

When the day comes,

I will buy myself uptight leather shoes to pair with suits, or

rugged boots to pair with overalls.

Not only will I hold myself up,

I will hold the shoes that held my boyish feet,

upon a shelf, sheltered from scuffs I gave before.

And later, I will buy shoes smaller than the palm of my hand,

for someone yet to conceive,

I will let them prance in the greenery, hike to summits of their own,

collecting stains and tears of their own, unique to the paths they venture,

Until one day, I take my own place on the shelf.