Loathing Poem by Eli Medina

What about your soul is it cold fresh out the mold to be sold, what about your mind does it shine? Or are there things that concern you weigh more than your time, well it's not real till you feel the pain, at last you smile and cast a spell, knowing love is a poor man's food, staring at the ceiling when you're in the dark... that same old empty feeling still in your heart, love comes slow and leaves so fast, cause you only missed the sun when it starts to snow, raise my hands paint my spirit gold down on my knees feed my heart and soul.