Mud of a hundred memories
Caked thick
On worn leather,
Torn boots,
Shoddy soles
Of a burned out soul
Scraping the past
On the threshold
Of a fresh start,
Evading the footprints following
From town to town to wharf
Unloading history
For someone else to recover
While awaiting a good rinse,
A temporary patch
To shake the tracks
Until he is ready
To live in
A new pair of shoes
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