Like a crab without its shell
Like a baby bird left on its own
Like a little foal standing alone
So is this soul
On a journey solitaire
No protection no care
It is exposed
The environment cold
No nourishment only pain untold
It floats along
Until at last it finds
A kindred soul a like mind
But this little soul has no guile
Makes the other smile
Still seems to run a mile
The heart is wrenched
It is in the open
Yet the poor soul never bespoken
The soul imagined twud be free
It gave in to promises of eternity
Hopes to fly in the sky and the sea
But all too soon alas it finds
There are around devious minds
They squeeze it dry and are unkind
It had its pleasure
It had it's fun
This little soul is again on the run
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Soul is alone doing journey like a little baby bird left alone to fly. With his own pleasure, little soul has again to run. An amazing perceptional poem is beautifully penned.10