May drabbles - 2
They look at me and all they see is something old, thrown away, and forgotten. A child’s blue shoe. Who cares what tale I’ll tell?
“Something old, something new.” That’s what they say. “Something borrowed, something blue.”
I was new the first time he wore me, the day they met. He climbed a tree – see the scuff-marks; then he fell, and never needed shoes again. She took my partner home and hid it away.
Don’t look at me today. Look at the other shoe now – old, borrowed and blue while the two of them bind lives with love into one.
“Something old, something new.” That’s what they say. “Something borrowed, something blue.”
I was new the first time he wore me, the day they met. He climbed a tree – see the scuff-marks; then he fell, and never needed shoes again. She took my partner home and hid it away.
Don’t look at me today. Look at the other shoe now – old, borrowed and blue while the two of them bind lives with love into one.
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