Get Your Premium Membership

SOUL SKETCHING

A voice of pure honey
Too bad you have that face
Busking in this alley
Seems an appropriate place

You are so skilled
Woodcarving is in your soul
Without that wheelchair
You could be free to go

....where words don't cut

You ruin everything
Can't keep a secret to save your life
You're a waste of breath
So sickly, you might as well die

Bitterness runs in your veins
Hate spews out of your mouth
Violence in movement
Stop breaking sound

....where melodies settle dust

Lazy, worthless, lay about
Go find something to do
Depression has no pill
The streets are calling you

No vision, no hope
You're a blob of wasted space
You screwed up my life
I had "a place"

....where matter makes tattoos

Little baby with sketches
As deep as a ravine
Don't allow those wounds
To have the power to mean

Liars are sprinkled
Along life's walking path
To prevent authenticity
From having the courage to take back

TRUTH

...where TRUTH restores soul 

Written by Trudy Schrader on 02-24-2024



Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry