Sad Shoe Poem by Philip Michael

Sad Shoe



I am a shoe, I hate my job.
This big smelly guy always likes -
To get in me.
He always finds the weirdest places
And when he is done I get thrown on the floor.
I don't get cleaned anymore.
I guess it's' too big of a chore.
One day he will look for me, I won't be there.
I will be running away to escape this life.

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