In
Old Shoes
By: Sally A Bayan
Life is a pliable mold
Made up of stories, told and untold
Some songs and poems are spoken
With no vocal chords...uttered in silence
Brave moments then, may have elevated
Us....but, some demons remain unconquered...
::::::
Life is aggravated by unshared memories
And unforgotten reveries...
True, there're things that can't be undone
Still....we maintain a long list of "uns"
And..."should've been done,"
They're like some old shoes, kept, and yet to be worn..
We can re-shape our future...start with an open mind
Change may mean progress, the future may be kind
This time...give space, so new strength may be born
So that those old shoes, gets a chance to be worn...
Made up of stories, told and untold
Some songs and poems are spoken
With no vocal chords...uttered in silence
Brave moments then, may have elevated
Us....but, some demons remain unconquered...
::::::
Life is aggravated by unshared memories
And unforgotten reveries...
True, there're things that can't be undone
Still....we maintain a long list of "uns"
And..."should've been done,"
They're like some old shoes, kept, and yet to be worn..
We can re-shape our future...start with an open mind
Change may mean progress, the future may be kind
This time...give space, so new strength may be born
So that those old shoes, gets a chance to be worn...
When I first saw this poem at the store I thought it looked nice. There were other nice poems too. My mom urged me to get the poem with the white laces.
Something about this poem caught my attention. It wasn't a cheap poem, another thing my mom grudged about. I finally convinced her it was worth it by explaining all the ways I would use it. It is a poem that I keep it in the hallway by the door, not one that I dig out of the basement every summer.
Still reluctant, my mom asked me to try it on. I searched through the boxes for my size. For a split second I felt my heart sink because I couldn't find the words "16 lines" (116 words in Europe) on any of the boxes. But then, as if it was hiding in plain sight, my eyes focused on the center box and found the number.
Ecstatic, I pulled the box from the masses, sat down, whipped away the tissue paper covering and tried the poem on. It was confusing at first, I needed to read it a couple of times to understand all the metaphors. But by the end, I figured out how the laces are knotted:
over, under, around and through,
don't regret the past
The future is new.
I think this poem is fit for just about anything. I could go to school in this poem. Go to the pool in this poem. Maybe I could even go to prom in this poem. No matter where I wear it, it will make a great impact.
I'll probably reminisce about this poem in three years, when the sole has worn through and there are holes in the fabric. I'll think back about buying it, all shiny and new.
It is definitely a poem that will last.
-Sarah Matatov