Persistent Troubles of an Old Soul
Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m not so pretty,
An invisible burnt out flame; it is such a pity.
This road not so revealing; trying to fight off this hurtful feeling.
It is my heart that you have been stealing;
This game of cat and mouse will leave us reeling.
I cannot understand why I end up where I do not want to be; at least as far as I can see.
A concrete jungle is where I lay my head to rest, but I dream of flowered fields at sunset.
This old soul an ancestor of the country-side; A young vessel cowering under the high-rise.
Gravel under my nails, as I fight to stay grounded; The wind that blows this dust to the sky.
The broken mirror reflects pale skin as white as snow; Like an old friend that I used to know.
A clear path not easily shown; An old soul still knows where to go.
Follow the golden curls of beautiful hair; A sister’s love that never dies.
Ancient history, I reflect sands in time, like a whisper from an old nursery rhyme.
One needs not to bury themselves under needless worry;
It comes to a pity that one could feel less pretty.
These games we play to keep us from forgetting.
You’ve been here before my dear; right now, it may not seem so clear.
An old soul there all along; your reflection in the mirror.