The man was quite lost, and
the man was confused,
so the man chose to go, but
the man left his shoes.
And the girl sat in shock and
encircled by fear,
but she would just smile and
not cry her tears.
The girl kept on going but
could not ignore
those brown leather shoes
that he’d left by the door.
Yet the girl laughed and
smiled and waved to the crowd,
because No One would love her
if she cried too loud.
Her act was convincing and
truly first class,
but all the hard work made
the girl turn to glass.
Somehow, no one noticed; we
each bear our crosses,
so people just worry about
their own losses.
That glass girl kept shining,
though the man was long gone.
And one day, a boy came and
he tried the shoes on.
The shoes were too big, but
the boy shuffled ‘round.
Some Grease got him started,
and soon he had found
that the girl was so pretty.
so fragile. so clear.
So he told her the things
she’d been dying to hear.
“I promise that I will not
break you.” he said.
“I will just hold your hand,
and I’ll kiss your forehead,
and we’ll be together and you
can just cry.”
The glass girl smiled wide,
but her eyes were still dry.
Dry as the ocean, yet dry as
a drought.
She wanted to, but she could
not let it out.
The boy loyally wore those
brown shoes that he’d found,
but they just did not fit and
they made a clunk sound.
And the girl loved the boy
but she hated the noise
of the brown leather shoes
that were not the boy’s.
So she banished the boy, and
then called him back,
then again made him Go! and
the sky turned black.
All that she needed was to
hold the boy’s hand,
but the shoes call the shots
and the shoes’ orders stand.
And once the boy left her,
then nothing else mattered.
The glass girl—she tripped
over the shoes, and she shattered.
