Barefoot an’ Wanderful

Ah don’ envy all you people with shoes at all. Unno don’ know what unno missing when the rain fall an’ the eart’ get cool cool. Mi can tell when rain comin’ too but Ah bet unno couldn’ even feel it like how me feel it. The eart’ under the concrete start to tremble an’ respire, an’ yuh feel the chill risin’ like what unno call crescendo under mi bare foot them.
And yuh see pon a reg’la day, Ah just like fi walk bout an’ feel the different texture dirt an’ gravel under mi foot them. An’ yuh see all brick bottle too, especially the ones that hide under the dirt? My foot them feel especially fi them deh. Anytime one a them hold me, Ah just like fi linger awhile over it, an’ just feel how it feel cutting through mi tough skin. An’ when it reach deep-deep, pass all the callous from years of wandering, Ah linger likkle longer just till Ah can feel all the rust start mingle wid mi blood. Ah wriggle mi foot likkle bit, till mi know another part of the eart’ gone deep in mi skin and then Ah continue on with mi business.

A me name Barefoot an’ Wan-da-ful, and I an’ I don’ business.


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