A shrill in the distance as we march. Our boots plunging into the mud with every precise step. Drums keep tempo behind us and we stare at the heart of the republic. Our goal, Rome. Our music, in our hearts. We pine for vengeance, knowing that we would achieve fragment of it. Crixus, Agron. Lead us as leaders, yet I do not serve in shackles. I follow in freedom, despite how fortune favours us. To be legends, the sowers of fear in the lion that is the Roman Empire. My boots carry me to that end.
This word means nothing to me. He polished my boots while I was puking. That’s it. I loved him so much.
bla bla
I looked down at my boots, the red barely shining through all the mud. I don’t know what happened to that damn bridge, but somebody needed to fix it before I went on a rampage. These were expensive. I’m so sick of mud all over my things.
“these boots where made for walking and thats just what they’ll do
one of these days these boots are gunna walk all over you”
the click clack of a woman in high heels also sounds so powerful. I think its because women are not only making a noise, but they are also being hear, people, men, are forced to hear them because it is such a invasive and penetrating sound that it can not be ignored.
S
boots for walking
hiking
running
boots for gently jabbing your horse to go.
Boots passed down,
worn and cracked,
Boots that carry lovely secrets in their soles.
Boots are something that can help people get around. They can be used in snow, grass, on concrete- wherever. Boots are like a best friend. A best friend is needed everywhere you go.
Caitlyn Meyer
The red boots jumped into the pool and sunk to the bottom carrying the child with them, she watched the world go black and her mothers eyes filled with tears. Her mother watched the child drown and couldn’t get the image of the red boots out of her mind for the rest of her life.
RAyer
They were rubber. Shiny. Lots of colors. I’d been looking for rain boots. Would they fit? My giant runners’ calves made boot shopping an impossible feat. I pulled them on. Like a glove, like they were made for me. A quick purchase later and I was able to skip through the puddles without fear.
Jill
Yellow, pink, red…..so many different colours. Boots, a woman’s choice for fashion and a mother’s choice for warmth.
Vanessa
Boots are shoes that can be worn in fashion shows and also in winter. They shouldnt be worn in summer as it is very hot. They are worn usually by women.
Vanessa
She stepped out of her wellingtons and into the kitchen. “Did you grab the phone?” I had not heard the phone ring as I flipped through the pages of my old notebook.
These boots were made for walking…. yup pretty much sums it up. I’m leaving and never looking back.
Kendall
” Boots and cats. Boots and cats. Boots boots boots boots boot cats cats cats. ” he rhythmically spewed the words out, forming an infectious rhythm and beat. I tried not to guffaw in amazement.
” And that is how you beat-box. Try again.”
dramarie
And in a way, the boots give me confidence. In a way the boots make me realize that I am vain, so vain for a self security.
undersides, caked with mud, tracks, picking up where ever you’ve been, leaving marks.
i want to retrace every step you’ve been and reclaim everything to ensure what you do is for me, towards me, complete and utter devotion, except we are all inherently selfish and i am as self gravitational as anybody else, you are self gravitational as i am.
Roschen
My heart in boots
Pitter patter pitter patter
Damp and dirtied
My heart in boots
Pitter patter pitter patter
Go on in strong leather
Lupa
You know those girls? You know the ones. They wear cardigans with plain camisoles underneath, skinny jeans, and boots. They all look the same, and I don’t understand why everyone wants to look just like everyone else. Why do I want to, too?
I put on my hefty boots. I always hated them. the only reason I had not gotten rid of them is because they were my mom’s old boots. She died when I was five and these were my only token of her existence. I walked across a muddy field. I had to get to the barn to feed the stupid chickens.
dahliap23
boots? again? what? boots are important to the body and soul. It protects from unknown fears that crawl from the earth.
my boots are red. or so i wish, i cannot see a thing through the fog. where might i be?
Raluc F
Boots that were kept on the stairs were placed strategically to stop any one to go up stairs. Alice did climb the stairs only to find himself another pair of boots that were the same as he was wearing.
aditya sharma
In a matter of time the shopping trip was over and I could go home and lay in my bed listening to music. I never understood the allure of shopping or what was just so damn fantastic about it. It was tiring, it was boring and it required interaction with others that I found myself incapable of.
I love my red shiny boots. My mum got them for my fifteenth birthday. I wore them day and night. I’ve never had more amazing things happen to me than when I wore my bright boots.
Noreen
I have rain in my boots, wanna fly but some people are standing in my cape. I can see the sun setting i want to follow it but I can’t. I sink in my boots I kick with them the end of another waisted day
prinshish
An old pair of boots in a garden shed, caked with mud, stepped on and forgotten. What stories they could tell. Laces frayed, like the years and lives they have witnessed.
Hannah Phelvin
I’ve always loved wearing boots. People couldn’t see how skinny my legs were, but still most of the boots I’m owning don’t fit. This winter it wasn’t cold enough to wear boots, sadly, no snow, no cold, just grey skies and bad moods. I really wanted to wear the boots which me and my bf bought last winter. I’m kinda hating them though.
Amaychan
botas cor de vinho, fresco, embarcado numa noite caminhante que já findou.
J O A N A
They stamped in the wet ground, black and no longer shining. Mud slid over them like polish, turning black slowly into brown. For some reason, it was his shoes that she remembered on the day he rode away. Not much else. She knew that he had worn a hat, a jacket, things that normally would have caught her attention. He had been strikingly handsome. But all that had mattered were his boots, as he swung up onto his horse and rode away from her in the rain.
Having the right pair of boots will really take you places. I have come to realize that’s no cliche. It’s completely true. Go for functional, rather than looks, and you will literally go places.
His muddy boots had trailed in here; she had seen the tracks as she followed him. Where had he been? What exactly had he been doing while she was rescuing Brenda? “Where were you? What are you up to, Alex?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said.
“Where did all this mud come from?”
“Am I getting you dirty, princess?”
She clutched him tighter, pissed off. “Don’t fuck with me!”
“I don’t need to,” he smirked. “I already fucked you.”
She punched him. Then she did it again.
Ashley
His muddy boots had trailed in here; she had seen the tracks as she followed him. Where had he been? What exactly had he been doing while she was rescuing Brenda? “Where were you? What are you up to, Alex?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about he said.
“Where did all this mud come from?”
“Am I getting you dirty, princess?”
Ashley
His muddy boots had trailed in here; she had seen the tracks as she followed him. Where had he been? What exactly had she been doing while she was rescuing Brenda?
Ashley
I plucked off my wet boots as I stepped inside into the house. How tattered they were now, so ripped and so worn. I had trusted them to last me longer, but what is faith in $10 footwear? They reminded me of the time spent with a dear friend, a friend who is still yet to understand the gospel of God’s grace. Of truth and of freedom.
Wendy P
My boots are your boobs.
I like that, do you’s?.
C. Purcell
Boots can inflict pain upon someone else. They are a symbol for oppression, especially black thick rubber-soled military boots which can threaten and harm all year round-summer or winter.
Kelly
“boots and hearts”
but i know that you care, and you love my boots. you love when i sit on the chair
my feet on the tabletop, and i tie the laces into neat knots
you’d kiss them if i asked you, you think of the legs in them, too.
i won’t clean them, they won’t be shiny, i love you plain, i love you grimey.
I have boots. Not just any boots, but special boots. They turn me into a monster. I pick up my gun when I wear these boots. I hurt people, kill people and do it on command.
Jonathan de Jeu
boots beith the bringer of man, the harbinger of foot and the carer of toes, boots cometh and boots goeth, with us all, together they complete us like no other object could. love.
A shrill in the distance as we march. Our boots plunging into the mud with every precise step. Drums keep tempo behind us and we stare at the heart of the republic. Our goal, Rome. Our music, in our hearts. We pine for vengeance, knowing that we would achieve fragment of it. Crixus, Agron. Lead us as leaders, yet I do not serve in shackles. I follow in freedom, despite how fortune favours us. To be legends, the sowers of fear in the lion that is the Roman Empire. My boots carry me to that end.
This word means nothing to me. He polished my boots while I was puking. That’s it. I loved him so much.
I looked down at my boots, the red barely shining through all the mud. I don’t know what happened to that damn bridge, but somebody needed to fix it before I went on a rampage. These were expensive. I’m so sick of mud all over my things.
The way I’m feeling right now? Lick them.
“these boots where made for walking and thats just what they’ll do
one of these days these boots are gunna walk all over you”
the click clack of a woman in high heels also sounds so powerful. I think its because women are not only making a noise, but they are also being hear, people, men, are forced to hear them because it is such a invasive and penetrating sound that it can not be ignored.
boots for walking
hiking
running
boots for gently jabbing your horse to go.
Boots passed down,
worn and cracked,
Boots that carry lovely secrets in their soles.
Boots are something that can help people get around. They can be used in snow, grass, on concrete- wherever. Boots are like a best friend. A best friend is needed everywhere you go.
The red boots jumped into the pool and sunk to the bottom carrying the child with them, she watched the world go black and her mothers eyes filled with tears. Her mother watched the child drown and couldn’t get the image of the red boots out of her mind for the rest of her life.
They were rubber. Shiny. Lots of colors. I’d been looking for rain boots. Would they fit? My giant runners’ calves made boot shopping an impossible feat. I pulled them on. Like a glove, like they were made for me. A quick purchase later and I was able to skip through the puddles without fear.
Yellow, pink, red…..so many different colours. Boots, a woman’s choice for fashion and a mother’s choice for warmth.
Boots are shoes that can be worn in fashion shows and also in winter. They shouldnt be worn in summer as it is very hot. They are worn usually by women.
She stepped out of her wellingtons and into the kitchen. “Did you grab the phone?” I had not heard the phone ring as I flipped through the pages of my old notebook.
These boots were made for walking…. yup pretty much sums it up. I’m leaving and never looking back.
” Boots and cats. Boots and cats. Boots boots boots boots boot cats cats cats. ” he rhythmically spewed the words out, forming an infectious rhythm and beat. I tried not to guffaw in amazement.
” And that is how you beat-box. Try again.”
And in a way, the boots give me confidence. In a way the boots make me realize that I am vain, so vain for a self security.
undersides, caked with mud, tracks, picking up where ever you’ve been, leaving marks.
i want to retrace every step you’ve been and reclaim everything to ensure what you do is for me, towards me, complete and utter devotion, except we are all inherently selfish and i am as self gravitational as anybody else, you are self gravitational as i am.
My heart in boots
Pitter patter pitter patter
Damp and dirtied
My heart in boots
Pitter patter pitter patter
Go on in strong leather
You know those girls? You know the ones. They wear cardigans with plain camisoles underneath, skinny jeans, and boots. They all look the same, and I don’t understand why everyone wants to look just like everyone else. Why do I want to, too?
I put on my hefty boots. I always hated them. the only reason I had not gotten rid of them is because they were my mom’s old boots. She died when I was five and these were my only token of her existence. I walked across a muddy field. I had to get to the barn to feed the stupid chickens.
boots? again? what? boots are important to the body and soul. It protects from unknown fears that crawl from the earth.
my boots are red. or so i wish, i cannot see a thing through the fog. where might i be?
Boots that were kept on the stairs were placed strategically to stop any one to go up stairs. Alice did climb the stairs only to find himself another pair of boots that were the same as he was wearing.
In a matter of time the shopping trip was over and I could go home and lay in my bed listening to music. I never understood the allure of shopping or what was just so damn fantastic about it. It was tiring, it was boring and it required interaction with others that I found myself incapable of.
I love my red shiny boots. My mum got them for my fifteenth birthday. I wore them day and night. I’ve never had more amazing things happen to me than when I wore my bright boots.
I have rain in my boots, wanna fly but some people are standing in my cape. I can see the sun setting i want to follow it but I can’t. I sink in my boots I kick with them the end of another waisted day
An old pair of boots in a garden shed, caked with mud, stepped on and forgotten. What stories they could tell. Laces frayed, like the years and lives they have witnessed.
I’ve always loved wearing boots. People couldn’t see how skinny my legs were, but still most of the boots I’m owning don’t fit. This winter it wasn’t cold enough to wear boots, sadly, no snow, no cold, just grey skies and bad moods. I really wanted to wear the boots which me and my bf bought last winter. I’m kinda hating them though.
botas cor de vinho, fresco, embarcado numa noite caminhante que já findou.
They stamped in the wet ground, black and no longer shining. Mud slid over them like polish, turning black slowly into brown. For some reason, it was his shoes that she remembered on the day he rode away. Not much else. She knew that he had worn a hat, a jacket, things that normally would have caught her attention. He had been strikingly handsome. But all that had mattered were his boots, as he swung up onto his horse and rode away from her in the rain.
Her boots were filled with mud from running home after she saw her sister floating by the river bed.
Having the right pair of boots will really take you places. I have come to realize that’s no cliche. It’s completely true. Go for functional, rather than looks, and you will literally go places.
His muddy boots had trailed in here; she had seen the tracks as she followed him. Where had he been? What exactly had he been doing while she was rescuing Brenda? “Where were you? What are you up to, Alex?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said.
“Where did all this mud come from?”
“Am I getting you dirty, princess?”
She clutched him tighter, pissed off. “Don’t fuck with me!”
“I don’t need to,” he smirked. “I already fucked you.”
She punched him. Then she did it again.
His muddy boots had trailed in here; she had seen the tracks as she followed him. Where had he been? What exactly had he been doing while she was rescuing Brenda? “Where were you? What are you up to, Alex?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about he said.
“Where did all this mud come from?”
“Am I getting you dirty, princess?”
His muddy boots had trailed in here; she had seen the tracks as she followed him. Where had he been? What exactly had she been doing while she was rescuing Brenda?
I plucked off my wet boots as I stepped inside into the house. How tattered they were now, so ripped and so worn. I had trusted them to last me longer, but what is faith in $10 footwear? They reminded me of the time spent with a dear friend, a friend who is still yet to understand the gospel of God’s grace. Of truth and of freedom.
My boots are your boobs.
I like that, do you’s?.
Boots can inflict pain upon someone else. They are a symbol for oppression, especially black thick rubber-soled military boots which can threaten and harm all year round-summer or winter.
“boots and hearts”
but i know that you care, and you love my boots. you love when i sit on the chair
my feet on the tabletop, and i tie the laces into neat knots
you’d kiss them if i asked you, you think of the legs in them, too.
i won’t clean them, they won’t be shiny, i love you plain, i love you grimey.
I have boots. Not just any boots, but special boots. They turn me into a monster. I pick up my gun when I wear these boots. I hurt people, kill people and do it on command.
boots beith the bringer of man, the harbinger of foot and the carer of toes, boots cometh and boots goeth, with us all, together they complete us like no other object could. love.