My Sneakers
- Seattle Prep Ignite
- May 13, 2019
- 1 min read
My sneakers aren’t white anymore.
…But my sneakers used to turn heads. My sneakers looked fresh pressed. - My sneakers made me tiptoe. My sneakers made me sweat. At night, I would pray to my sneakers.
My sneakers were my religion, I confess! I confess!
…But my sneakers started to sour. My sneakers began to brown. My sneakers’ soles squeaked. My sneakers laces dragged on the ground.
I never again said, “My eyes are up here…”
My sneakers aren’t white anymore.
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