Miles in Their Shoes
A cautious step in weathered sandals,
Worn to cracked brown by the Saharan sun,
Long journeys over vast deserts of gleaming sand,
Searching to quench the thirst of far-fetched dreams.
A teetering click of glossy custom stilettos,
Making contact with a waxed linoleum floor,
Carrying the burden of high expectations,
And constant striving for materialistic perfection.
A light jog in well-worn sneakers,
No longer white laces, frayed and knotted,
Pounding against pavement under angry skies,
While humans tears mingle with the cloud's.
A tiny shuffle in faded babouches,
The colors washed out by the Turkish heat,
Little hands reaching for a spare coin,
Or a spare wayward smile to reignite a flicker of hope.
A stride in etched, weathered clogs,
Wood against rain-stained cobblestones,
Searching for a future outside a provincial town,
And breaking free of expectations already set in stone.
Miles covered now, traveling someone else's journey,
Stories read now, looking beyond the book's cover,
How can we sing someone else's song, without knowing their tune?
How can we judge someone without walking in their shoes?
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