He showed me the once
Soft and white feet
And asked for a pair
Of spare old slippers to greet.
I couldn't bear what I saw
For it was a sorry sight,
He said his feet are bleeding
He'd been travelling barefoot day and night.
They were covered heavily in dust
In places bleeding was profuse
And so he became
One of my great muse.
He is very frequent to my abode
Since I was a small child,
I've grown quite attached to him
Since birth I was very mild.
But what a pity, I had
Spare old slippers but none
But I gave him something else
To which his blessings were never done.
