Poem: Soul
This week,
I’ve never been able to succeed at anything.
I started to feel,
“Is there something wrong with me?”
Then,
I began to monitor every move of my soul,
Seven times.
But I found,
These seven times,
I despised it too.
The first time,
Between wide cobblestone avenues and thorny paths,
It chose the former.
The second time,
Between lust and reason,
It chose the former.
The third time,
Seeing its untended fruit trees failing to bear fruit,
It stole other people’s work.
The fourth time,
It could have climbed to the top of the mountain,
But it chose to live halfway up the mountain.
The fifth time,
It feared the strong,
But mocked the weak.
The sixth time,
It was weak,
But thought that’s how it should be.
The seventh time,
It wanted to change,
But it was all talk.
I wanted to scold the soul,
But the shaper of souls,
Is me.
(Inspired by “Seven Times I Have Despised My Soul” by Khalil Gibran)