This is my poem

I wrote this when I was a freshman in college. For some reason its quality has deteriorated since then, in my opinion. But here it is.


The price of shoes

He likes to wear clogs.
I told him they were girls shoes,
but like what I say makes a difference.
I asked to borrow them.
He said maybe.
As if one day of my shoe wearing would hinder his reputation.
It's not a big deal that I gave my heart
to him a long time ago.
Are the heart and soul comparable to
a pair of leather garden shoes.
Maybe my thoughts and ideas
can compare with a matching bag,
or my values and expectations
replaced by a jacket with a fur collar.
Keep the clogs I say,
I can get shoes for less than
the price of my soul.