(Poetry about the contradictions in one’s mind)

I lost a shoe, somewhere

I learnt, to get

The most out of an ordinary

Cease in yourself, the ordinary, first

Preach, if they can, for a thousand years

All the wealth would be lost

All the tranquility gone

My feet hurt

I hope you find it

I found one, too

Mismatched

Exasperated, bruised and with salt in my cuts

From the voyage of an ocean that dried

I am not, but

I still have pulp in my soul

I can trade it easily, but I won’t

You don’t sell what’s left but a little

I outgrew myself, I thought

Or grew back, descending

Either way it takes time

Please, I say

I hope you find my shoe

And learn to walk in it

I am learning to walk in yours, as I found them

We could have perfect mismatches

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