Because I can be a silly bint, I wrote a poem to my shoes. Old army-boots, which I’ve had for over thirteen years, but which are too old for active service. It’s such a shame. I loved them dearly.
To my boots
You came from the surplus store
It was love at first sight.
We’ve never been apart.
You were black and sturdy
You carried me wherever I needed to go
Indelibly we left our marks
all over our walks.
You are old now
Cracked leather and slippery-soled.
No amount of polish can hide that.
The sureness which was in your steps
has faded over the years.
No more black boots with red laces
for me to wear on my wanderings.
I loved you more than I’ll ever love
another pair of shoes.
Your time has come.
I’ll keep you on my dreams.
In this town there will always be
a girl stomping around in her black boots.