My Tiled Soul: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
"My Til
Parts of me scattered here and there, with
a soul of black and blue. The floor is where
I lye, the truth is what I hide. Parts of me
are missing and parts of me are hiding
across the room and back. My tiled soul lay,
stepped on today and tomorrow with no sorrow
or thought of the next. I have myself in a
corner and I can't get out. Forgetting this
wall that I was against, because I've been
here so long, I can't even remember my name.
Lying here through night and day, parts of
me scattered here and there with no care.
A soul of black and blue, everything is
starting to look truer, as my tiled soul
lays through out the days.
John McKinley Pride Jr.
Parts of me scattered here and there, with
a soul of black and blue. The floor is where
I lye, the truth is what I hide. Parts of me
are missing and parts of me are hiding
across the room and back. My tiled soul lay,
stepped on today and tomorrow with no sorrow
or thought of the next. I have myself in a
corner and I can't get out. Forgetting this
wall that I was against, because I've been
here so long, I can't even remember my name.
Lying here through night and day, parts of
me scattered here and there with no care.
A soul of black and blue, everything is
starting to look truer, as my tiled soul
lays through out the days.
John McKinley Pride Jr.
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