ODE TO AN OLD SHOE

Too odd to look at an old shoe

As it is out of use;

The trend grows as never to die,

Its youth full of service

Now retired basking the sun

On bare earth, fatigue rest indeed.

Fungus breeds on it

The wrong bed to grow on,

Feast of microbes

And stage for its festival.

Bits the bitter farewell

On its journey to pit; the final destination,

Man is no man by his deed

The buffalo is not worst, he is.

Shoes of various brand cries the same,

Pitch differs with its pain

No man hears or wills to listen.

Kids compete to fling it as far as possible

When its hue fades;

True son of a cruel father

Walks the path travelled by his father.

Well beaten route isn’t always the perfect way

No blame befall on you

When you don’t walk on his uneven path.

Need not feel odd to offer ode

To an old pair of your shabby slave,

It deserves beyond your thoughts

Bit farewell the true farewell

Or what else it asks for!!!