#Wordle 417 #Poetry




I wake up crying, not knowing why

The rest of the day feels as if I am walking on water

The shallow end of a pool, waiting to drown

The way ahead is never clear

Someone is trying to pull me through the fog

The ground beneath my feet, unsteady

The weight of my heart pressing against my ribs

I am given a bizarre message

by the entry to the Tubes station

A piece of paper pressed into my hand

By a man who vanished before I can speak

It read; your soul is taken.

If you want it back, you must bid for it

I doubt the concept of a soul

Besides, where would I bid for it, eBay?

How much should I offer for something

That supposedly belongs to me.

Turning the paper over, reading on

You have spent too much time without it

Don’t let your life become a car crash

Find your missing part

to stop the tears each morning…



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