i follow the boy with the bright shoes
every step he takes i take two more
unsure of my motivation
the feeling in my heart, it tugs me
i race out the door just to catch a glimpse
who knew that i'd see those same shoes
sitting peacefully, worn throughout the years
i stand there, still.
not needing to run anymore,
to wait near the door in anticipation
the thrill of the chase
YOU ARE READING
the inevitable
Poetryunderestimate, unfold, understand. the third installment from words better left unspoken
