The Scattered, Shattered Pieces Of Her Soul-A Poem

The little one,

Came into this world,

Bestowed with the purest of soul.

He looked at Her and said,

No.

I don’t think so.

I must go.

But first,

He reached for Her,

And greedily,

Stingily,

Took a piece of Her soul.

Not to cherish,

No.

But so that He would remain whole.

Then She looked at Her,

With Her ragged-edged soul,

And said,

I will keep you,

I will make you once again whole.

She tried,

But She lied.

And She looked at her,

And said,

No.

I don’t think so.

You must go.

But first,

She greedily,

Stingily,

Stole a piece of Her soul.

Not to cherish.

No.

But so that She would remain whole.

She sent her to the next one.

Who said,

Oh, I don’t know…..

I guess so.

But no,

I don’t think so.

And He let Her go.

But not before

He greedily,

Stingily,

Stole a piece of Her soul,

Not to cherish,

No.

But so that He could remain whole.

She roamed,

Bereft of soul.

She looked,

She longed,

And She found One.

One who was overflowing with soul.

And He said,

Come, be with me.

I will share.

I will make you whole.

And He did.

And He and She created a new soul.

The purest soul.

And then another,

And another.

And They were all whole.

Until the young, pure souls said,

We must go.

And They greedily,

Stingily,

Stole,

All the stitched together,

Raggedy shreds of Her soul.

Not to cherish,

No.

But so that They all could remain whole.

And She,

Having once again,

No soul,

Lost all of Her wholeness,

And was empty.

An endless hole.

Of nothing.

As if She’d never been here at all.