Shoe-Shopping

[operadiva]

My Ragged shoes are past their expiration date,
and quickly becoming an embarrassment.
 
Nothing more than a bag full of trash
whose seams give out just as you reach the trash bin.
Sadistically spewing rotten garbage from a soiled mouth,
leaving an odorous haze as my insides are scraped off the pavement.
 
beaten and battered.
but the shoes next to me,
polished and new.
 
Light bounces off of them like a disco ball
speaking with each step, ‘tip-tap tip-tap’
 
Suddenly, I’m a new man;
a showman.
 
But, I become nothing more than a twisted ankle dangling below
a bum knee, barely mobile, but unnervingly frantic.
Constantly counting to eight, not knowing how to
save a dying art from the onslaught of heavy-set linebackers.
 
squeaky and suffocating,
but the shoes next to me
modest and comfy.
 
Warmth seemingly radiates from their very soles.
the comfort they offer draws me in like warm cup of  tea.
 
Suddenly, I’m a different person;
easy-going.
 
But, I become nothing more than a sloth inching closer to
leaves on a distant tree, and further from the solid ground below.
Hungry for nothing but the passing of time and the generous
hand of another to give me just enough to meet tomorrow’s afternoon.
 
cushy and coddling,
but I know it can’t last,
stagnant and complacent.
 
I’ve found soup too cold, too hot, but not just right.
but the patch of grass next to me looks lush and vivid.
 
Barefoot, blades of grass reach up and tickle my feet.
Barefoot, twigs startle me, and the ants great my feet.
Just right.

[Achebe]

Hi opera - loved this one. Please post more like it. Some thoughts below.

My Ragged shoes are past their expiration date,
and quickly becoming an embarrassment.  ...nice opening. While I've heard 'expiration date' for shoes before, it's still fresh. 
Nothing more than a bag full of trash  ...I don't think you need a metaphor here. But if you do, 'seams' in the next line is a confusing word as it makes me think of the shoes again instead of the garbage bag, and I waste some time trying to figure out where this is going.
whose seams give out just as you reach the trash bin.
Sadistically spewing rotten garbage from a soiled mouth,
leaving an odorous haze as my insides are scraped off the pavement. ...not sure about what you're trying to say now - do your shoes stink when you take them off? in that case, what are your insides being scraped off the pavement? socks? It's confusing and distracting, and ultimately, an unnecessary metaphor. See above. It'd be better if you stuck to a literal description of your shoes here, IMO.
 
beaten and battered.
but the shoes next to me, ...might consider 'in front of me' as that's how a typical shoe shop stacks its shoes i.e. against a wall
polished and new. ...I like how you end this strophe here, closing off chapter 1 and beginning chapter 2 after the break.
 
Light bounces off of them like a disco ball ...lovely
speaking with each step, ‘tip-tap tip-tap’ ...might need a comma after 'ball' else it looks like the ball speaks with each step
 
Suddenly, I’m a new man;
a showman. ...nice.
 
But, I become nothing more than a twisted ankle dangling below ...nice change in rhythm as you move from observation to thinking in mental pictures.
a bum knee, barely mobile, but unnervingly frantic.
Constantly counting to eight, not knowing how to
save a dying art from the onslaught of heavy-set linebackers.  ...I'm not familiar enough with american football to figure out what a linebacker does, but it sounds right!
 
squeaky and suffocating,
but the shoes next to me ...I'd prefer 'next to them' rather than repeating 'next to me'
modest and comfy. ...again, closing a chapter and pausing. Great device. Love it.
 
Warmth seemingly radiates from their very soles.
the comfort they offer draws me in like warm cup of  tea. ...missing 'a'
 
Suddenly, I’m a different person;
easy-going.
 
But, I become nothing more than a sloth inching closer to
leaves on a distant tree, and further from the solid ground below.
Hungry for nothing but the passing of time and the generous ...'hungry for nothing but the passing of time' - fantastic! also, nice enjambment
hand of another to give me just enough to meet tomorrow’s afternoon. 
 
cushy and coddling,
but I know it can’t last,
stagnant and complacent.
 
I’ve found soup too cold, too hot, but not just right.
but the patch of grass next to me looks lush and vivid. ....now realistically, if you're in a shoe store, you can't have a patch of grass 'next to you', unless it's an open air shoe shop in a meadow, which would be unusual. 'the grass in the meadow' / 'the grass outside' are ok
 
Barefoot, blades of grass reach up and tickle my feet.
Barefoot, twigs startle me, and the ants great my feet. ...you meant 'greet', but 'greet my feet' is twee. perhaps 'feast / on my feet'. Though the repetition of 'my feet' is something to avoid. But I loved the change in mood at the end. Brilliant.
Just right. ...yes!!

[CRNDLSM]

My Ragged shoes are past their expiration date,            You don't need 'my'
and quickly becoming an embarrassment.                 
 
Nothing more than a bag full of trash
whose seams give out just as you reach the trash bin.    great analogy
Sadistically spewing rotten garbage from a soiled mouth,        rotten garbage, soiled mouth, odorous haze, sadistically spewing sometimes less is more with adjectives
leaving an odorous haze as my insides are scraped off the pavement.   
 
beaten and battered.
but the shoes next to me,
polished and new.      nice comparison
 
Light bounces off of them like a disco ball
speaking with each step, ‘tip-tap tip-tap’    nice personification
 
Suddenly, I’m a new man;         maybe connect these three short stanzas since theyre all about the new shoes
a showman.
 
But, I become nothing more than a twisted ankle dangling below
a bum knee, barely mobile, but unnervingly frantic.    because new shoes are stiff and cut the feet?
Constantly counting to eight, not knowing how to    
save a dying art from the onslaught of heavy-set linebackers. In 'Pitch Perfect 2' the Greenbay Packers sing and dance quite gracefully
 
squeaky and suffocating,
but the shoes next to me
modest and comfy.    revisiting stanza 3 i like it, or is this a third pair of shoes to compare
 
Warmth seemingly radiates from their very soles.
the comfort they offer draws me in like warm cup of  tea.  warmth and warm a little redundant, how about a beckoning cup of tea?
 
Suddenly, I’m a different person;
easy-going.
 
But, I become nothing more than a sloth inching closer to
leaves on a distant tree, and further from the solid ground below.
Hungry for nothing but the passing of time and the generous
hand of another to give me just enough to meet tomorrow’s afternoon.  i really like this comparison, very thoughtful but I don't know what a hand can offer to meet in a day
 
cushy and coddling,
but I know it can’t last,
stagnant and complacent.   
 
I’ve found soup too cold, too hot, but not just right.  nice
but the patch of grass next to me looks lush and vivid.  grass isn't greener, the shoes are nicer, i think you avoided a cliche   
 maybe connect these two, too.  Lots of breaks in a long poem break my concentration with it
Barefoot, blades of grass reach up and tickle my feet.          
Barefoot, twigs startle me, and the ants greet my feet.  whatever you do to this rest of the poem,
Just right.                                                             i think you should leave this last line alone