Shoes

"Shoes"

You ask me to put myself into her shoes and think of what she has done is how to be done? Feel like how she felt and whatever she did was the way it should be done. 
You complain and tell me to put myself into your shoes and feel of how it feels to be into your shoes because when I put myself into hers I can feel her, then you say to feel like you too and want me to proclaim that, "Oh whatever you did was right too and you're genuine about feeling glumly of what she has done."
Okay, alright, I do that. Nevertheless, I feel of how you both would feel into each of your shoe pair. But did you ever think of how do I feel? Who would put themselves into my shoes? Who would feel like I do? Who would know of what I know?
Your love, your ignorance, your comments about me, who would know of what it means to me and how do I feel about them? My sorrows, my heavy heart, my tears on cheeks and my immeasurable love for thee, did you ever think of all these?
No, you did not. I felt like both of you and took the pain even. Now you are into each other and I alone with my shoes with no one to put themselves into the shoes I walk in. I'm alone with the shoes. Yes I am alone now with my shoes walking in the cold hail.