Black shoes,

splattered with mud,

rubber soles peeling.

These shoes are not just shoes.

Threadbare,

holes and tears,

white laces fraying.

These shoes are not just shoes.

Worn for miles,

they've gone far,

shown me places

across the stars.

Black shoes, 

tattered with time, 

fabric finally fading. 

These shoes are not just shoes. 

I'm here to tell you a story, 

a story of shoes that aren't just shoes, 

of fire that's just not fire, 

of rain that's more than rain. 

Open your minds,

unlock your hearts.

We're about to explore the world.  

These poems are not just poems.