Soul-Searching Poem by Kevin Maroney

What's most important, is it wealth,
could be some other breadth?
Perhaps it's our life, that we could be here,
ever worse, that we should fear?

Maybe it's friends, fickle as they be,
as they laugh, come and leave with me?
But still, those are hard to find,
even rarer, the best's a rare kind.

If not, perchance there's knowledge, difficult to procure,
yet still it can be faulty, then how could I be secure?
It needed, true, and I love it fast,
but still sometimes it doesn't fit the cast!

I've given up, what's the point?
Is just that we have joints?
Something deeper, our taxonomy?
The great cycle that fine-tunes our biology?

I come to my last, the soul's for sure,
but it's so obvious, it has easy allure.
True it's there, I can feel it so,
but what's in it, that I could define it, package to go?
It's red, blue, yellow, green,
every color you could dream,
but what's that black that's hiding there,
in a corner such piercing stare?
I see it, it's got green eyes,
pale skin, claws a mile wide,
it's teeth up in a sickly grin,
even a sickly scything fin!
What's it called, it's in the dark,
somehow it seems a reflection, albeit stark.

Then the realization came to me,
what a fool I was to try to see.......