Hatter Musings

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If you were in my shoes, you'd feel the way it bend my feet to its mold.

If you were in my shoes,  you'd feel the way the laces tighten around my feet, binding my freedom.

If you were in my shoes, you'd see the way it hides the unpleasantness of its handiwork in blisters and scars.

If you were in my shoes,  you'd feel the pain of my little toe straining against the confined space of its restrictions

If you were in my shoes you'd feel the suffocating acridity trapped in its enclosure.

But you are not in my shoes,  that's why u coo over my feet on the outside,
Envying the covering that hides my feet from plain sight.

You are not in my shoes,  that's why You regard my discomfort as ungratefulness for the ownership of what I have.

You are not in my shoes, that's why my pain seems like a privilege lost to inherent lack of contentment.

You are not in my shoes so you may never know.

Such is life,  side show for others to lament their shortcomings while the real victims hide the ugliness of their pain under a shroud of glorified. complacency.

There goes the first write-up. I'd like to know what you think. 🙂.