Bowl of Soup

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Are you what I'm looking for?

Submitted: April 02, 2011

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Submitted: April 02, 2011

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I have to say the words I thought I could not speak.

For so long now, I've thought myself to be weak. 

Today, I was blinded, but could finally really see.

I now know all the potenial of what we can be. 

Unfortunately, there willl never be an us.

Do not worry, do not make a fuss. 

Before, with vision, I never really saw. 

All the plains of my one, fatal flaw. 

You are beauty, you are sheer. 

For your greatness, may the world yell out in cheer.

Yet, you are missing that littlest of things.

The very one that's large me, the very one that gives me wings. 

Where is, without my glasses, I looked for it. 

Beyond the sea of externals, inside, underneath your wit.

But it just wasn't there, never there at all: a soul.

WIthout it, what would be of us but an endless bowl.

Traveling in circles, the spoon of the world would push.

We'd never really get anywhere, just become some big mush. 

I have to goodbye now, I have to say hello,

to the world I've been running from, from the world I can tow. 


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