Well hid to hide to run away

I've got a nice pair of shoes strapped onto my feet. They suit me well. I can walk for miles on end without fear of sore feet. Though I do wonder. What will happen when my shoes give out? When the soles come loose, when the aglets tear off of the laces, when the shoes color turns to the dirt that I tread on. My bare feet exposed. What will I become? I could gather the spare change in my pockets and purchase a new pair. Or I could take those scarce metal coins and throw them over my shoulder into the wishing well. I could wish for new shoes. Another option of course is to turn back and face the double edged beasts that pursue me. I could grin and bear it and take what they have set for me. I could stop this senseless running. I could stop chasing the stars, quite swimming in the Pacific, or I could all together stop breathing. This could suffice. Do you see? I am in connection with myself and everything around me. I know where my name starts and where it ends so I know who I am. So I'm perfectly fine with walking away. Like I said I have shoes. I am well hid to hide to run away.