A lonely pair of shoes dangle quietly
From the telephone wires in the neighborhood.

As I walk below them, I begin to wonder.
I imagine a little boy wandering around the streets,
With tousled dark brown hair and dirty knees,
Barefoot, cold, and all alone just like his shoes.

Maybe he threw the dark blue shoes up there
So his parents would buy him a newer pair,
Possibly clean white, or bright red.

Maybe a big, mean bully took the shoes away,
leaving the boy to walk home in discomfort.

Maybe he hid something in the bottom of them,
And then threw the shoes up to keep the item
He was hiding away from everything and everyone.

Did he get the new shoes he had wanted?
Has the bully left him alone yet?
What was he hiding?