To Walk In Someones Shoes
To Walk In Someone Shoes
On swollen feet she hobbled down the street
Her skin stretched taut like melons, overripe
The mini skirt and makeup while offbeat
Screamed prostitute; though she was not the type
Her bleach blonde hair stuck out like wind blown straw
A visor, old and greasy perched a top
What deeply touched my heart was what I saw
Her painful steps on feet about to pop
Right then I understood what Gandhi meant
If you have more, you thieve from someone’s want
This truth I knew I could not circumvent
For if I’d try, her want, my soul would haunt
She’d hobble on in shoes I’d broken in
And I barefoot, forgiven of my sin
Tina Busch-Nema
June 11, 2009
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