habitually bruised and battered
my feet are the tattered remnants
of the souls of my ancestors
scraping the earth's surface
in search of purpose and poise
yet so coy with their fetish
instead we relish the punishment we get
for tepid dreams, scorned gazes, and silent screams
i dream a world of flip-flops
so we can hip-hop to life's rhythmic pulse
entranced by the heels of our fears
and enthralled by the tears of our peers
i hear twinkle toe cheers
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