Masochists

They’re looking at me again
In dark corners I see them paired up
whispering that I’m ugly, too fat, without style
And yet you chose me first
Sometimes for a nice long walk
or inappropriately even on a date
Which makes them click their heels, flap their tongues
and whisper even more
But they don’t know how tough you are
how much you expect
The miles and mountains I will cross for you
suffer crushing blows to give you comfort
stability and support in challenging times
through the rat race, through the storm
And still you complain that I rub you wrong
Will you tire of me
after you’ve tread my soul thin?
And though I feel tied to you
there’s always something between us
A thin separation that gives me ponder
If you appreciate me, sometimes I wonder
when you toss me aside, reaching for another
flimsy, flip, flop, floozy you claim gives you space
But here I wait, battered and worn
until tomorrow when you chose me first

**********************************
This poem is written by my Montrail Mountain Masochists trail shoes who have gone miles with me.

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