Mourning Skies

Shoes

He was a size ten shoe
He had one pair of sneakers
He wore them from childhood
To the time he was fifty
And maybe even as a ghost
I may never know

He painted them black and blue
For the colors of his flesh
That had been tainted by the unloving touch
Of the man he never wanted to become

He scribbled down words on the soles
And with them out of his gaze
Words he only heard on the streets
But came to his own conclusions about
Maybe not even conclusions
Simple dismissals of his poor education

His ankles bled and his heels blistered
But the shoes he walked in
Were the only ones
And even when people offered him theirs
To see he didn't need to walk on
The torn fragments of sneaker
Wore away and away with time
He clung to the debris
No matter how contorted and damaged
By his own two feet