Soul

Sometimes the soul
Escapes the body before
Death frees us from this
Level of existence,
Perhaps a bit over
Eager for what is next,
I cannot say.
We each have a
Ticket to ride, maybe
Our impatience impels
Our soul to move on
Skipping our demise.
I wonder if sometimes
The soul is called away
Even earlier leaving that
Unfortunate to lose their
Compassion, living only
For their own immediate
Gratification unaware of
The needs of those
Around us who
Look for help
Only to see
Those
Cold
Empty
Shark eyes
Where a soul
Ought to be,
No smile of
Love for
Another put
First,
Only those
Selfish stares
Of self-interest.
How can such a
Person feel thankful
For the symmetry behind
The chaos on the monotonous
Media merry go round of
Opinion posing as
Journalism.
Oh well,
Please pass
The biscuits and gravy …