Boots

The boots belonged to someone else
They never fit quite right,
Turned out a bit too much at the heel
Pinching a bit too much at the toe
But they were good boots, the leather was sound
And the soles had no holes
No holes, that's important
Solid boots for walking and working
Polished the leather to a soft shine
They really were a nice shade of brown
With stitching
Tough boots for wandering and losing oneself
But never tough enough for losing someone else
Those soles, whole and unbroken
Never could protect from broken hearts
Or broken promises
The shine of that leather couldn't brighten the shadows
Cast by the lies
The boots picked up dust in their travels
And scars
So much stronger than the person who wore them
Whose scars didn't show
Whose leather would not polish
Whose soul had so many holes.