A Soul For A Sorrow

I don’t see myself in pictures hanging crooked on the wall, 

The shade of red that coats my cheeks can shift to none at all. 

For I might offer just a hunch to those in this dismay? 

I often find that my own soul is lost and gone astray. 

She shouldn’t be too far from home; the vessel she did leave, 

Though I may try, with force of will, I never could appease. 

So, when I find myself upon and meet a friendly face, 

I often come to reckon that her act I should replace. 

But hollow words to echo in this empty place of mine, 

Can find no ground to root themselves; an earth that's free of bind. 

I also see these faces go; they wander off quite gently, 

But simply can't control the fact that my dear soul has left me. 

Untethered to the part of me that shines and lights a way, 

It left me out to dry and drop as if a fool's parade. 

For in a mirror, I have looked and tried to understand, 

Though in my eyes I did replace her with a beaten lamb. 

I may be bland upon my look or boring to the touch, 

But I do know, if she returned-! -though that is just a hunch. 

I offer those who find themselves also ashamed of late, 

To know that we are broken; even souls hide from this fate.