Shoe

I live in a shoe

And before you ask me any questions

Or if this a metaphor

Or try to sell me a spot in the latest Shag development

Let me assure you, I most definitely live in a shoe

It is the left shoe to be exact

Worn down and some spots extra layers of duct tape

To keep out the winter cold

And when it gets icy, I have to be careful

For if I jostle it just right, the shoe can slide a couple feet

You may ask me why, when, what and how

And this is what I will say

I used to work at a school, a crossing guard in the morning

Lunch lady in the afternoon, and chaperone seeing the children off in the afternoon

And with budget cuts, my job was the first to hit the floor

And so was my pension

My retirement was limited and with no health care

It was impossible to see a doctor for my growing aches and pain

And I was left with nothing, until I came across this shoe

Abandoned and tattered, I took to fancying it up

Scrubbing it out, making it into a home

It took me a winter or two to get the insulation right

And the city has all but forgotten this area

So for now, I am safe

Before the corporate giants clamor over the countryside

Pulling up homes like weeds so they can plant their boxed in communities

I am okay in my little spot

Not long the runaways found me

In school the children always ran to me for safety, and now

Their children have found me, these lost children

We are a little family of misfits, foraging off the land

Keeping each other safe

In a world that doesn’t even care if we are alive