The Sneakerhead Life – Poem

Like the buzzer that blares at the end of a basketball game, the alarm sounds.
The air no longer holds tension, but apprehension for what lies ahead.

 

Behind the curtain-folds, the sun stands still.
Deceptive.
The air is chilled like a frozen February, warm yellow beams transform to gamma blue rays of light as they enter the atmosphere.

 

You rub your eyes and scrub your face, faced with a day-defining decision; what to wear on your feet.

 

They adorn the capacity of your closet, row upon row and column upon column.
Footwear.
Packed full and certainly overflowing.
The muffin-top of collections.
A sweet accomplishment.

 

Thinking back to the night prior you remember the utterance of the weatherman,
“Chilled with slight winds.”
What a shame, you’d just have to bring the heat this morning.

 

Your eyes scan like a barcode and abruptly stop at the sight of grail.
You pause.
You check them out.
Clean as a whistle and in more ways than one.

 

Like a white-gloved surgeon you remove them with utmost precision.
Delicacy.
Slipping them on softly, you watch your swag meter rise to supersonic stardom like the Concorde.
Your style? Fly.
Only a few can reach your heights now.

 

You step out the front door.
It’s as if they all got the memo.
People everywhere don sunglasses to protect their eyes from the vivid heat on your feet.
Striking.
So eloquent one cannot help but look.

 

As you stride you sizzle the pavement.
The street is your catwalk.
Camera’s click, bystanders gasp.
You mean business.
Cut the chit-chat, your kicks are top of the agenda.

 

Some might call you Neo.
The chosen sneakerhead.
Entrusted with wearing the freshest footwear; saving mankind from unauthentic style.
Every shop window is a slow motion edit.
Every reflection a chance to flex.

 

They say to never talk to strangers.
You obey.
Your mouth is shut tight but theirs are open wide.
In awe? In shock?
Who knows.
Their heads remain down, still silently nodding in appreciation.

 

You smile and take it all in.
Feeling like you have the best collection of sneakers is cool, but it’s not the reason why you live.

 

And though haters hate, and hypebeasts stay hyping,
You know life’s too important to care all about sneakers, but too short to not care at all.


Tread Softly

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