Born from clipboard quotas,
the sweathopped shoes I bought on sale
are waiting for a thought,
on who the seamstress was and
if she went to bed
content the day my pair was sewn.
I wonder if she touched her daughter’s photograph,
before she cried herself to sleep.
Maybe blisters from the soles can later
be a slight reminder
of the tepid broth she had for lunch.
I shrug and close my heart:
there’s a limit for concerns.
A poem on shoes for Susi at toads.
December 9, 2016
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Such heartbreaking truth. Now I’m wondering about the stories stitched into every one of my shoes… I hope they were not glued with tears.
This is awful!
But good.
… You know what I mean. 🙂
I like the “sweathopped”/”thought” rhyme.
It’s true; you can’t let your mind be constantly consumed with other people’s worries. That may seem coldhearted, but you have to make sure your own blessings are not wasted by letting yourself be sad all the time over someone else’s suffering.
I feel sorry for those little shoemaker elves. Don’the think they take home much dough
Oh My ~~~ great write!
This is such a tender expression of the circumstances of a stranger. I have had these feelings, myself, about the people whose cheap labor covers my body. It is so sad (overwhelmingly so, really) to contemplate, that – as you say – there’s a limit for concerns.
Oh this is so beautiful and poignant.. both at the same time..❤️
Thank you for the guilt. No, really, this is spot on.
One can empathise with the struggles of workers dubbed cheap labour for their time and skills in getting comfort onto one’s feet!
Hank
You show us an uncomfortable glimpse behind the curtain.
certainly ‘out of the box’ great write Bjorn
much love…
Very nice. Specially about “Limit for concern….” Exquisite!!
There are many sad truths in this poem. Every shoe has its own story yet filled with surprises one might be afraid to know or curious to find out. 🙂 Excellent poem my friend. 🙂
The limit for concerns, yes I can see this. I often cross it, I think that is why I am often miserable for what others perceive as “no reason”.
Wow! This is heartbreaking in its truth. We certainly walk on tears. Thanks for writing for the prompt.