“Love” is the thing which decorates the soul
That makes it bright, effulgent, warm
Love’s work there never stops at all
And is not by time erased or deformed

But a wall was built around my soul
To fend off the touch of the unknown
But one day I’d like a stranger’s soul
To take inside to meet my own

But who would want to paint my soul?
I’m one of billions in the throng
Maybe in time I will bloom
Or learn to capture them with song