We trade shoes. <br />Today you are wearing mine. <br />I know those shoes all too well. <br />Run if you have not been cut down. <br />Nobody hears the starting gun. <br />It goes off regardless of who is around. <br />Shouldn’t it be pointed away from you? <br /> <br />We trade shoes. <br />Tomorrow may be my turn. <br />I am use to it just the same. <br />There are many, many holes in the soles. <br />Winning is not a question here. <br />You will never be a winner in a judge's eyes. <br />I have tried many times and have only won alone. <br /> <br />We trade shoes. <br />They are so worn out and hurt my feet. <br />Run awhile and they will grow on you. <br />Do not leave them around for others to fill. <br />These are not the type for good family outings. <br />I once wanted to hang them up for good. <br />But the starting gun is always firing away. <br /> <br />We trade shoes. <br />You shouldn’t be surprised, we always have. <br />Maybe, they only hurt your feet now. <br />They still have a few good miles left on them. <br />You’ll know when to wash your wounds. <br />Untangle the laces and tie them yourself. <br />If you forget how, others will surely do it for you.<br /><br />Gulliver Gimble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-trade-shoes/
