
Alone, he sits on the bustling street,
Where people come and go, a sea of faces.
Yet not truly on the street he sits,
But in a corner's embrace, with half a brick
As anchor for his views and dreams.
The lamplight tirelessly casts its glow,
Each face that passes by, a canvas painted with joy,
Each shoe that strides past, a testament to careful choice.
For without a pair of fine shoes,
The longest journey remains incomplete,
Insufficiently dignified amidst the throng.
A new pair of shoes demands respect for each step taken,
A new pair of shoes requires a period of adjustment,
A lengthy path before they truly harmonize with their wearer.



Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.