School: High School of Dundee
These are the shoes that she learned to dance in,
Giggling with the other five year olds,
Tiptoeing across the hall,
Following instructions and memorising routines.
These are the shoes that she jammed her feet into,
Years later when her mum lost her job,
The shoes that she stuffed with tissue paper so she could learn to dance on points,
These are the shoes that, patched and scuffed, she wore to classes twice a week,
Which she paid for with her salary from working at the supermarket.
These are the shoes she wore to the audition,
Where she danced for her future, and for her dream.
These are the shoes which helped her to fame
And she's kept them ever since.
These are not the shoes she wore to her first show,
Red silk with ribbons,
Or the shoes she wore when her performances sold out,
Or the shoes that she wore to her wedding,
These are not the shoes she wore the day her dream collapsed,
When she heard the clash of metal on metal,
And the echo of shattering glass.
These are not the shoes she wore when she was told she would never dance again.
These are not the shoes she wears now,
Battered old grey slippers,
Used only to shuffle around the care home,
Still with a profound limp,
But these are the shoes that started childish dreams,
Turned them into reality,
And she will never throw them out.