Inner
I often leave my soul unattended or outside.
See I never thought that this soul is what keeps me alive.
I hate to suffer like this becuase It was outside again.
Disruptions and all bad spirits will hurt it within.
Another hurtful story of another lost soul I must carry.
Another hurtful speech of another lost soul that I do not want to carry.
My ink is almost done but my soul still has words.
Words which comes from the outside worlds.
These words might cut you in half.
These words might change your heart.
No soul deserves such words I tell you.
I will have to keep my soul away from the outside few.
I will have to take these words and send them far away,
Perhaps I should cremate them today.
I shall then take my soul and put it in a cage.
I shall then keep it there forever and always.
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The Verse
7y"Words which comes from the outside worlds" Hmm, we have a tendency to remove the mind and soul from the body but I find harmony knowing that the muse, the spirit and the flow of creative art comes not from the outside worlds but from the intricate, complex inside worlds. The microscopic world. Then again, I may have a tendency to de-emphasize the spiritual in favor of the tangible. I am a poet nonetheless though. Ahh, as for this poem, the rhyming scheme at the end is congenial and satisfying and I find the first read to be, well, typical but entertaining. The second read was more entertaining so well done.