Shoes

Through darkened streets on lamp lit paths
My pulse begins to race
Seven years I've wearily wandered this path
And have yet to see one single face

Not one pair of eyes, nor hair, nor smiles
What they wear I haven't a clue
But I unmistakably recognize character
As I pass by people's shoes

The untied shoes of youngsters
That skip past me without care
To the boots of a construction worker
Working diligently for his fair share

High-heeled stilettos and stylish flats
Pass me by on their way home from here and there
Quickened paces and trudging steps I hear
But look up, I do not dare

I recognize color, pattern and style
Whether worn out or brand new
But to recognize you any other way
I simply cannot do

Looking up is a frightening thought
For I never know who or what I might face
Judgment, ridicule, scorn, or cruelty
As your look tells me I don't belong in this place

So I dart through shadows, blend into walls
Become invisible to those all around
And I concentrate solely on what you wear
On your feet as my eyes meet the ground

The musician on the corner in loafers
Playing his heart out for a few dollars more
To the cop with his black belted boots
Who, for me, kindly holds open a door

To the weary mother of three
Whose white tennis shoes are worn straight through
But she'll gladly work every shift she can get
To keep her kids under a warm, dry roof

Stories crowd these busy streets
As each footstep tells a tale
Of struggle and strife and victory
When the struggling overcomer prevails

Another day, another dark street
Envelopes me safely once again
As I go unnoticed in shadowy silence
Observing quietly from within

I feel the weight of your stressful days
As you work to pay your dues
It's amazing what you can learn about someone
By just looking at their shoes