My Shoes
You don't know fear 'til you've lived in my shoes.
You live every day afraid you'll lose
your balance, respect, or the friends that you have.
Lots of long and fancy names for the things that cause
all the fear that you carry around in that bag,
kitted up nicely so you don't seem to lag
behind the other students.
But lag all the same,
you have no one to blame
but God.
Asburgers, Muscular Dystropy,
pragmatic socially or otherwise,
cannot hold it, cannot hold up.
And yet I seem to, owl-wise
in how to hold my head high,
the crown slips on those who slouch, princess.
That's how you'd survive in my shoes.