As I fall off this cliff,
I want you to know,
that I really like these shoes.
As I spin through the air,
I can see the laces flapping
and twirling in front of me.
Still tight on my feet,
as the wind buffers
my graceful plummet.
I see every Sunrise and
Sunset, as I tumble,
end over end in the air.
And my shoes,
tightly tied on my feet,
not going anywhere, but down.
When I land,
broken and dead, I bet
the shoes will still be good.
So, send them to the Moon,
or Mars, because
they are good shoes.
Unless the wolves get me,
Then, maybe,
not so much.