A starving shoemaker of little means
with winter knocking on the door...
Poverty has hardened my heart
making prisoners of good Samaritans
the elves found me in great depression
a starving shoemaker of little means.
I fell into bed sick with no will to wake
but when I did my orders were filled
a dozen fresh boots were cobbled
I knew I'd never have to work again.
The note left by the elves demanded whiskey
such little payment for those boots
but winter was knocking on my door
I caught the little helpers one by one.
My shoe making is better than my chains
I would have made those elves my slaves
but now I am prisoner in my own home
tied up with thorned shoes upon my feet.
Matthew Wilson, 34, has been published over 150 times in such places as Horror Zine, Star*Line, Spellbound, Alban Lake, Zimbell House Publishing, Space & Time Magazine and many more. He is currently editing his first novel.
Follow him on Twitter: @matthew94544267.
POEM Art by Amanda Bergloff
