Open Shoe Box
My shoes are mine,
They came from my Mother,
Grandmother, father, and grandfather
Passed down from one generation to the next
Bruised hands, unhealed scars, and broken spirits
Chains, bondage, and labor
But my shoes are only known for one thing
For what they represented when they first came out the box
But grew worn as the day is long
As my skin is black and as the repression grew loud
Dawn till Dusk, century to century
Those are my shoes
What they will always be known for
Dirty and worn out
Beautifly Black, or damaged African
They are mine passed down for centuries
Destined for me to walk in the day I was born
Shoes that grow as I do,
But stays the same as the world spins
My shoes are mine,
You will never walk in them
And you can't presume to know how they fit me.
