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by George Hoerner

My soul
I lost
I’m sure
It fell from
My pocket
Along the
But what road
Which state
My memory
Barely recalls
My name
Let alone
What last
State I visited
So I no longer
Know where
To go or worse
What to do
What is right
Or what is wrong
I’ve always done
As I pleased
Without hurting
Too many people
Oh there might be
A woman who
Would disagree
Though I only
Recall being slapped


Posted on 08/09/2018
Copyright © 2019 George Hoerner

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 08/10/18 at 11:02 AM

For those of us who feel we've lost our souls, I often wonder if it is not our souls which are lost to us but rather the other way round, we are lost to our souls. Perhaps, like ourselves, our souls aren't lost at all, but rather are venturesome souls and are merely on holiday and will return shortly, in some way refreshed and ready to resume the mantle. As always, George a thoughtful poem. I was never slapped by a woman, but I was whacked in the head by one ( my lovely wife ) that knocked me for more loops than I can count. I don't know why she did it, but she did. We were having a heated argument in the kitchen over who knows what and bang! Out of the blue, the wallop of a lifetime,

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