As a shoe am I,
Textured with flesh.
Worn where I lean,
Oft without polish,
But never unclean.

I rely on my sole to carry me through,
All of my other bits rely on it too.
It withstands the hardships of any weather,
Has taken its beatings more than the leather,
It remains unseen until I look,
Reassuringly there ‘neath each step that I took.