He who walks in my shoes
Does not walk on a pair of Jordan's or Nike.
He walks upon the heels of leather made of struggles.
He must walk with consciousness and carefulness
…like stepping on a floor spilled with water.

Each step is like an unchecked alarm;
…which keeps reminding him of his unsung roots.
His heels will be pulled back by the claws of challenges.
He must learn the steps to his own tunes,
So that he won't seek solace in the ballads of lies, deceptions and arrogance.

He will walk the bounds of a spoilt society;
…where laces are held down by colossus evil,
And the loud silence of the sole made from knowing no one scares opportunities away.

He who walks in my shoes,
Must fit my spirit like a jacket:
He will stare in the scaring face of depression.
He will survive the silence of the night when only hearts pound like drums.
He will smile even in turbulent times.
He will uphold to the beauty of life.
He will find oasis in the dessert of negativity

He who walks in my shoes
Must be armored with my spirit too.

© Isaac T. Tamba