Each morning when I awake
I sit at the edge of my bed,
Bend, and slowly lace up my shoes.
These have grown old
Through much ware;
Now a little tattered and faded,
The brown leather no longer flexes
Like it once did.
Some mornings the leather is soft
And on colder days, I have to pull slowly
To make them fit.
These old friends have taken me
On many a journey.
Together we have danced and run
Long through the summer night.
Now the days are much shorter
And the journey fills with cold;
The sun light slips away
And one day soon, these old shoes
Will be replaced by a newer pair.
They say the new ones slip on;
Are much lighter, adorned by gold
And are soft like wings,
So I might jump and fly high again.
-SB
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