Good-Bye Old Shoes
I know I can’t wear them one more day.
They pinch my toes. It hurts when I play.
My mom says it’s time to give them away,
But I’m not ready. I want them to stay.
I remember the day I got these shoes.
I remember the way they looked brand new.
The white was so white; the blue, so blue.
They were meant to be mine. I swear it’s true.
When I first put them on, I wanted to roar.
I felt so springy, I leapt to the floor.
I felt so fast, I ran through the store.
I needed more room, so I dashed out the door.
I’ve worn these shoes for weeks and weeks.
I’ve worn them to hide. I’ve worn them to seek.
I’ve worn them to sneak and peek and streak.
On rainy days I can make them squeak.
If I give them away, where will they go?
Will their feelings be hurt? How will I know?
Could anyone else love them so?
Someone should invent shoes that grow.
© 2012 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved
My kids wear their shoes until the soles are falling off and their toes are poking through.
My oldest thinks he can only be super-fast in tag when wearing the right shoes.
Your kid is right, Katya! I can perform magic (okay, so almost-magic) when I’m wearing my faves (cowboy boots)!
Cute poem, Liz!
Jet
Yup. Shoes that grow.
And maybe for the older set, shoes that grow to accomodate bunions and such? 🙂
Yes, I’m with Katya. There’s no way to give my son’s shoes away once he’s done with them. All his other clothes get passed on, but his shoes must just be thrown away!
Ha! yes to shoes that grow! Although my boys are so rough on shoes, they would have to heal themselves as well. 🙂 Wonderful poem. Thank you for sharing.
Hmmm, maybe I need another stanza about wear and tear.
Though this time my seven year-old son grew out of his shoes too fast to make holes in them!
Thanks for reading and commenting.
Liz
Ha! Love that ending, Liz, and this stanza:
I’ve worn these shoes for weeks and weeks.
I’ve worn them to hide. I’ve worn them to seek.
I’ve worn them to sneak and peek and streak.
On rainy days I can make them squeak.