The shoes in the last corner of the last drawer of the last room,
Have felt lonely in the latest times with the only mate as a broom
The last time they felt alive was when the drawer was opened to check for the broom
It’s been months since it has been confined to this one room
The laces often talk to each other about the hardships they faced
About the restless person, who was the owner and fast paced
How they were always juggling between not being too loose not being too tight
How not to get dirt on them, and keeping the color just right.
I don’t know why I connect to the shoes in the last corner of the last drawer of the last room,
While being into quarantine in the same room.
To the laces who talk to each other, like I talk to myself and my family about how we took for granted the most basic things in life.