Rubber Sole

GoldenAngel

Can one darn the immortal hole

In the sock of experience that chafes the rubber-worn sole

Of the shoe that doesn’t fit

That doth tread the path of uncertainty and risk

Can one re-weave the flimsy fabric

Of a threadbare soul

That doth ponder at the point

Of a heartless commercial world

Can one repair a forlorn and forgotten heart

So ragged and frayed and falling apart

From trying so hard

To love lost and damaged souls

Earth-bound angels

Whom hath but only one wing

To save them from the danger of their self-seduced egos

So ready, eager and willing

To sacrifice themselves and die

In pursuit of a fake western dream

To live a synthetic lie

Indelibly imprinted upon the lids of ones minds-eye

Entombed by in-built expiry