SOUL

Across the spiked wall lay the world of wild freedom,
but beyond my reach was this heavenly garden
amidst the fragrant blossoms i wished a solitary abode
but brazen was i to beleive such life was to be mine
among the shattered reflections of broken glass
i discovered the need to be sublime
but brittle was my will
against life's daily mill
above the starlit sky i hoped to find the light
but below the dark earth claimed me with its might
across the horizons of despair i tread
beleiving i'll find hope but
beneath the gritty flesh
lies a soul weathered by life .
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As i looked through my old stuff this weekend found
this poem i wrote sometime back and
i still could say the same.
Life goes on by sheer grit but its the
soul that suffers the grinding mill of life.