Tale O' The Shoe

Tale O' The Shoe

In days gone by I walked many a mile

Through bristles an' briars.  Makes it

hard now to smile.  As for me, I'm just

a plain 'ole shoe!  Only thing holding

me together is a dab 'a INSTANT GLUE.

Yep!  'Lil wonder that I'm "Fit to be

Tied," and that I've been deeply

h-u-r-t: from being stepped on, cut,

scarred, kicked, and spit upon.  MY

SOLE has even been punctured by

a sharp nail...Ouch!  Not often have

I known a 'youngin anxious to give

me a' SHINEIN.  I've been more than

just abused!  Some stores can you

imagine, try to sell me with "NO

STRINGS ATTACHED!"  You know,

I've learned that it's hard to "make

it on a SHOESTRING," or less,

traveling down the HARD, ROUGH

ROAD OF LIFE!  My 'STICHIN

is  v-e-r-y  frayed and my GLUE

is 'getin brittle.  I've walked through

sleet and snow, mud, wind, rain

and rough terrain...Tho I'm WEAR

DATED, my toes often protrude

out the end of me.  And know what,

I've been known to stick out my

UGLY TONGUE!  Ingrown toe

nails and smelly feet have been my

normal lot and reward.  Must be

shoe mania!  No wonder I'm so

WORN OUT!  People who know

better have called me 'bout every

thing: from "PIGEON-TOED" to

"HALF-SOLED!"  I'm a  r-e-a-l

eye stopper...I get GUM stuck to my RIGGED BOTTOM!  Ah, go

ahead 'an call me what you will: Clod Hopper, Tennis Shoe, Sandal,

Boot, Hush Puppy; and imagine me, a LOAFER!  Oh well, "If the Shoe

fits, wear it"  Perhaps I sold return to my 'ole STOMPING GROUNDS

for RE-SHOEING!  Or just maybe, become part of Shoe Memorabilia!

And proudly receive 'GOLD PLATING.'  Yep!  I'm Road 'n Track...and

...OOP'S...house broken!  I even make a terrific gold plated token!  Once

I'm broken in all comfy 'an nice, folks don't easily discard me; they think

twice!  When I've become all weathered 'an worn, I'm often adopted 'an

re-born!  Just 'cause I grow old from use and abuse; folks don't always

abandon me in the family refuse!  In America, I'm proudly made with

pride; I take many a day of wear in my STRIDE!  Remember an

Old Indian Motto: "Don't criticize your Brother, unless YOU

have    walked    a    mile    in    HIS    MOCCASINS!"

C. Ray Tucker