Purple Converses

I’ve left my purple converses
in the foyer,
feel free to step into them
and take a journey
in my shoes.

But please…
Leave your judging eyes
at the door.

Take my hand
Let me be your guide,
for the razor sharp shards
of my broken memories
cannot harm
my weathered bare feet.

Pay no never mind
to the weeping souls
holding bleeding hearts,
hidden expertly
behind camouflage walls.

We’ll revisit them later.

Lets follow this
blood stained
yellow brick road
that does not lead
to brainless scarecrows,
hollow tin men,
cowardly lions,
or magical wizards.

Well.. Maybe it does

Let us stop and sit
upon this
cold marble bench
of mothers lap.
The arms
are a bit hard and stiff,
but at least
they are there.

Fear not,
my fellow journeyman.
The bellows it lets escape,
are only its own frustration
at being so hard
and unyielding.

Comfort…It cannot provide.

We have lingered too long
I can sense annoyance
at our intrusion
upon its recompense.
and preferred solitude.

We mustn’t expect too much

Let us seek shelter elsewhere,
Perhaps
under the strong branches
of this solid oak
with wandering fingers
and an appetite
for innocence.
You mustn’t be afraid
of its probing limbs
it is only showing “love.”

Oh Journeyman, Are you tired?
We’ve only just begun.

My purple converses
don’t fit you very well.
Perhaps you’d better
kick them off
for now.

We’ll travel further
another day.