There was a broken shoe,
Lying upon the greenest grass,
Under a tree, inside a park.
Who left it there, nobody cared,
Discarded as if it was spared,
From the constant beating upon the ground,
From the roughest course run around.
It was once worn by a worldly man,
Like the shoe, was he broken too?
Who knows what laurels he took,
From a glance upon this shoe’s look.
When he casted it aside,
Like one should when broken beliefs arise.
Used when good then sauntered off,
This is life’s way, to let unhappiness depart.
If you wear these broken shoes for long,
You might trip or you may fall.
We all get some shoes broken sometimes,
But learn to mend or leave them behind,
It takes a little time to abide
But cast it nevertheless aside.
So run or walk, brisk or slow, with a pair of new,
Wear and make use until it’s a broken shoe.
Literary Expeditions 