It was there all the time...
I drowned it out and welcomed flattery.
I listened to hollow words rather than that quiet stirring.
I followed faces I could touch and not the one I could only sense.
And all the while the pulse got quieter, the din grew louder and I didn't even realize I had sold the rare and priceless for what was cheap and easy.
The hard earned for what could immediately be attained. The best for the good. My birthright for a bowl of soup.
The pulse is not as strong as it once was. It's not as loud; not as vibrant; not as clear. Sometimes I wonder if it ever will be. Sometimes I know it will...
2 comments:
I think your insides are even more beautiful than your outsides
Maybe that should be, "sometimes I feel like it won't." Please don't lose the hope that it will, as expressed by the voice of your past.
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