My Feet

If you are another victim of lost innocence,

then your shoes have worn you wrong.

And if you are a victor of self-indulgence,

then you are something I am not.

I often wonder, if I stepped into your shoes,

would I be rewarded with the truth of your past?

So, I try.

I am denied.

It doesn't matter how well I can fake it

with my little girl eyes,

because these shoes aren't meant for my cleft feet.

Maybe, if I let the mud suffocate my ankles,

you will be unable to identify the line that links

my present to your past.

These shoes,

They bind.

They tie.

They conceal you so well,

and reveal me too true.

It's impossible to imitate a shadow.

Still I try, but fail.

Again i try, again i fail,

and fail.

I own it,

my weakness.

A poem by: Amy

Creative writing is an outlet of mine.

I don't always express my current emotion but by reaching into other emotions,

i regain my sanity.