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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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