Boots

What amazing sights
My soles have seen
Other sandy sovereign lands
And the simple everyday

These boots were made for walking
Stepping

They have carried me
Covering my feet from the coarse Earth
The imprint etched and echoed
On the land and on the leather
The very dirt tattoos my togs
Telling a story

Remove one stride or add another
And the whole tale changes
If I had not trod along the wasteland
Wishing I were somewhere else
Would I amount
To the man I am today

Should my Pumas bear more purpose
Propelling me to progressively better panoramas

Should I count my steps carefully
Boots only have a finite span
Before they're all used up

No

Forward momentum is not reliant
On my boots moving
I will walk
One way or the other
Like Marines on the march
Making their way with the weight they bear on their backs

Lace me up, Lord
I'm leaving
The lore of my life is lacking resolution
I'll not waste another wanton moment

These boots were made for walking
Stepping

Each one brings me closer to oblivion
But I don't care
There's so much to see along the way