My worn out Shoes

My worn out shoes
holds many memories
Embedded and buried
Deep within its weary sole

Witness and participant
In those resolute and thoughtful steps
Of the many tough treks
And some easy strolls

Scrapping the ground
Raising the dust
To propel me forward
to play my rightful role

It lays tattered
Wounded and battered
With Splayed stitches
And some ghastly holes

Yet comfortable
In a neat fit
Moulding and Moulded
The feet it snuggly holds

I often carry it proudly
And seldom in shame
It’s my skin
A part of my very whole

It has come to rub on me
As I have rubbed the me on it
We have become each other
As together we grow old

My worn out shoes
Are like me, I gather
Holding memories happy and sad
Deep within my very soul