The Cell



by M. M. Kolf

The Cell

When you were born

The Spirit sighed,

It loved you even then

It watched you as

A little child

Playing with your toys

And wasn’t blind

To your surprise

When you received those blows.

And then the Spirit

Wailed like you

When you found they didn’t care.

And through the years

What cost him most

Was when your heart turned black as theirs.

With a holy fist

It beat the ground

When all belief in you lay dead.

And now the Spirit

Sits beside you,

Knowing the fractures

Of your teeth and bones

The stress of living in a violent world.

And this spirit waits for your consent

That He take you by the hand,

And lead you to a tranquil place

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