The Soul Travels

January 14, 2008
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The soul pushes on.
It is round and small,

Tethered to our hearts
Succulent in taste,

It welcomes the lonely
Who give their attention

To sticky lollies—
Sit lonesome on stone steps

Chiseled by a hand
Less than glorious.

The soul trudges on.
Its story is immortalized;

It never whines—
Only lingers in its pathos

For seconds before
Giving, giving, giving,

Of itself.

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Brittany=) said...
Jul. 29, 2009 at 10:06 am
Very well written. :)
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