Shoes (poem)

Shoes

Shoes can tell a lot about a person,

No really, I'm telling you, they can,

Where they've been and such

Or what they've done in truth.

Maybe there's a girl with style

Who's visited the downtown McDonald's

Behind her friend's Gucci-clad back

In greasy salted, leather shoes.

Or the man at the bar

With dank brown loafers Nordstrom-bought
Drinking away his sanity

And splattered with beer.

The youth that walks with frat kings

On fine, black Sunday-shoes

Worn from playing tennis

And greased from stealing cars.

Shoes can tell a lot about a person

no really, I'm telling you they can

How they've been and such

Or what they need in truth.

And if you don't believe me. . . .

Well, you'll find it in my shoes.