“There’s a hole in your life”, said a voice in my head;
(I can hear it right now as this poem I write).
So I filled it with feathers and other things “lite”,
as I thought there would then be no hole there instead.
“There’s a hole in your heart”, said a voice from above;
so I jumped in the water and I searched for some love.
But whatever I did, it could never be whole;
every trick that I tried was just damage control.
“There’s a hole in your soul”, said a voice from below;
then it breathed on my face; gave me visions of flesh
(when I heard where it’s from, I knew it was faux).
through which I was tempted, enslaved and enmeshed.
For skin minus spirit just makes us ensnared;
an obsession with husk makes the hole that is there.
Thus, the words that I’ll say now to souls on my lane
will be: “Please just unite me to heaven again!”
© Alan Morrison, 2017