Common advice – walk in his shoes.
rub where his socks wrinkle,
soles worn holey, rough heel scuffs
and how shoelaces crack under the heft
of mud. Good enough as it goes.
Then look through her eyes, sink
into gloom in her negatives. Glance
to bare feet and to the sides
where slippery things glide.
Where a brain finds fear.
Feel her mind suspect
how much is unfair, unstated,
undreamed, out of reach.
So far away from your start,
your day, your peachiness.
This poem appeared first on Visual Verse.
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