I came across some of my old poems the other day and decided to revise this one:
A shoe in sorrow
Weeps in winter, knowing never
Movement no more; old and broken
Dust-choked, desolate, done.
Sagging satin, stale and shabby
Long forgotten. All alone.
Splintered shank and broken box
Crushed, collapsed from a thousand turns
Pancaked pink in ghostly grey
Sweat-soaked, stained, and stripped of strength
Flattened on a platform stage
Tossed aside with weary hand.
Left to rot in shadowed bag
Ribbons faint and fade and frayed
Tangled knots of long ago
A hollow heart of hollow skin
Paid full price for beautyâs pain.
