Small autobiography of a shoe - essay form?

Answer 1

Old,tattered and muddy, lying in the corner of a beggar's house,sometimes memories of my youth days creep in my mind. So bright and handsome I was, when I was kept in that expensive showroom after being manufactured under the name of a very well known brand.It made me the first choice of many rich and famous men. While lying on the shelf of the showroom, I got acquainted with the pair of shoe lying next to me . We kept talking to each other whole day long. We often made fun of customers who used to visit the showroom.

Once, there came a rich businessman. He was a middle-aged gentleman. He purchased me as soon he spotted me. I was nervous and excited at the same time. My master paid the prize and put me on. I bid my friend good-bye and walked out. My master sat in his luxury car. It felt great to see the outside world after spending a couple of days inside the showroom.

After a short comfortable drive we reached my master's house. His house was no less than a palace.I thanked God for bestowing me with such a fortunate life. My master was a busy man. I was lucky enough to visit many different countries along with him. I was always well-polished and had no worries of being dragged on dirty roads as my master always travelled in expensive cars and planes. I also had ample time to take rest as my master had a number of shoe pairs.

Time passed by and I started losing my shine and color. After a passage of time, my master bought a new shoe pair for himself. Now he preferred to wear them for most of his business trips. I was jealous of our new companion.

this is an eg of autobiography of a shoe :

To my horror, I was handed over to one of the servants of my master's house. He never took good care of me and hardly washed me. I looked horrifying and smelt awful. I was made to walk on rocky streets and muddy lanes. Sometimes banged against the walls and sometimes stepped over by high-heeled sandals, I was badly hurt. I wept for being in such a pitiful condition. I knew, life won't get better, it would just get worse.

I was further passed on to a beggar who once came to the servant's house.I went a long way begging door to door. It was so tiring. By the evening we reached a slum. My master went there to see one of his friends. To my surprise, I spotted my old friend in the other beggar's feet. We were overwhelmed to see each other. I could not believe my eyes.We talked about the journey of our lives. His story sounded pretty similar to mine.

Now we meet everyday and share our little moments of sorrows and joys. Days of my old age are passing smoothly. When I look back at the journey of my life, I feel content, because life is a music made by joys and sorrows together. And I had both.