Home > Spoken Word & Poetry > Soul Dipping…

Soul Dipping…

Some souls are lost before they are born
Tortured by their own DNA
Their despair is regenerative like skin cells
Unknowingly, they rush toward their exit while running from demons
Blowing bits of themselves onto everyone they meet
As they dance, sing, speak
They are applauded with vigor
But their talents do little to buy them extra time on earth
They drown while flying

Those souls are merely disposable puppets to the masses who scream for more
More of their hollowed out insides until another puppet comes along
One who is more tormented, more damaged, more talented

Souls grow dark and tired and weary and alone
Even in rooms of massive square footage
With crystal clear windows and thousands of people
There is no hope for a tormented soul in the midst of tainted minds
But there are plenty of accolades until a greater emotional wreck emerges

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