Old Trainers

You know something? Life sucks.
When you’re lace deep in mud,
you know it ain’t gonna get any better.
This is it. A toe poking through my mouth,
a ripped tongue, worn to the sole,
nothing like them others.
The fancy heels. The boots she shines.
I think I was blue once?
I’m kinda grey now.
That’s what it’ll do to ya.
Getting slapped in the face day after day,
Concrete teeth, gravel lips.
But this isn’t it.
It gets so much worse.
Stuck here in the dark,
Not even in a pair no more.
Separated. Flung. Discarded.
Watching the brief slithers of light,
as the others depart and return,
Wondering when the end will come.


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