I am Walking Barefoot

Once I worried about a thing,
I wrote the worry on a thing.
It’s really nothing,
But it meant everything.

I needed to walk barefoot.
I can’t stand wearing shoes, sandals, let alone boots.
No one understood,
Oh, shoot!

They forced me wearing the new pair of shoes.
They said it must fit,
And I should like it.
Which, I did.

Those new pair of shoes…
They looked neat.
I could’ve acted liking it,
But, really, it won’t fit.

I tried liking those shoes!
They just won’t fit!
Then they called me twit.
Made me felt like a broken-legged athlete.

What was I supposed to do?
I needed being barefoot for a while.
Really, it was just for while.
Why forcing me in everything I do?

Something came out of the blue.
I knew nothing but my gloomy heart gone blue.
It never asked me about all those blue.
It stayed, played and brought light in to my blue.

It is my light blue,
The light that caught my blue while doing a shoot,
It feels good not having to give clue,
And still got asked-on walking barefoot!



Yogyakarta,
9 December 2008


*An answer to an earlier poem called Barefoot.







.:.Grace in frame.:.
from: http://gracesamboh.multiply.com/journal/item/145/I_Am_Walking_Barefoot