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A Hole In Her Soul

© 2013 Iony Smith

lost what she loved, then found nothing more
    and the street where she once played
    is where she now lives
    a cardboard box
    as her modesty shade

she picks at the cut in her foot
that came from the crack in her shoe
the cold weather just about ready
to bust through

there's a hole
growing in her soul
an empty space boring through
a hole in her soul

lost her faith, then everything else   
    and the street where she once played
    is where she now lives
    a cardboard box
    as her modesty shade

desperate for a private moment
to freshen and cleanse
to retain some majesty and worth
somewhere outside the public lens

and there's a hole
growing in her soul
an empty space boring through
a hole in her soul

lost her job, then her self-respect   
    and the street where she once played
    is where she now lives
    a cardboard box
    as her modesty shade

watching cars blur by
her life belongings in two paper sacks
shifting from foot to foot
occasionally toeing the sidewalk cracks

there's a hole
growing in her soul
an empty space boring through
a hole in her soul

lost who she was, then became someone else    
    and the street where she once played
    is where she now lives
    a cardboard box
    as her modesty shade

neon lights blinking on and off
clothes, like her spirit  tattered
neon lights blinking on and off
dreams and hopes shattered

and there's a hole
growing in her soul
an empty space boring through
a hole in her soul

lost and deeply confused, then ended up here   
    on the street where she once played
    is where she now lives
    a cardboard box
    as her modesty shade

no one knows her story
yet everyone thinks they do
keeping their distance, they believe
will stop the spreading of this virulent flu

and there's a hole
growing in her soul
an empty space boring through
a hole in her soul


Survive
© 2014 Iony Smith

chatter, chatter clatter, screech
warning from black birds to the cat in the morning dawn
wincing from the shrill and persistent shrieks
the Maine Coon continues his deliberate slog
quietness high on his list from this clamorous discord

chatter, chatter clatter, screech
feathered scouts atop the Mayten tree heads swivel from lookouts beyond
on call and on duty, swooping down defending both turf and air
the feline slumbers along ears twitching with each squawk
noise piercing the low lying fog, moves him along, slowly, slowly

chatter, chatter clatter, screech
in scores they scold and harass as he strides on all fours forward
hovering lower they dart and dodge skimming the predatorís fur
scowling back in barely audible tones stunted quivering meows
patience gone, big cat jumps on a stump, curls up and closes his eyes

this time chatter, clatter and screech
keeps them safe and alive
this time for now, this time - they survive

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