deepundergroundpoetry.com

S O U L

 
We've all seen when science steps in;  
It's anything goes with that lot,  
There's no honor for tradition.  
   
It's all talk about extinction  
Replaced by new order, new world  
Everything shiny clean and new  
And supposedly much better.  
   
When did we start to think of how  
There wasn't enough to explore,  
To keep our hands and minds busy,  
To question everything of ours  
And think that we could improve "it"?  
   
On the contrary, "it" can't wait  
To abandon the idea,  
And never bothers to ask me  
As most times it knows I agree.  
   
Why should we care?  I know I don't,  
Driving with the sun in my eyes.  
When I utter its name aloud  
The single syllable thunders,  
And I'm put right back in my place.  
   
It's mine, you know, and so is yours.  
I'll never plan to sell it out,  
Nor put it on a bucket list  
And see it naked 'neath a lens  
To have it dissected again.  
   
It's the only one of its kind,  
The best thing that was given me  
That jump started my chance at life.  
   
I forget sometimes, once or twice,  
But
not whenever this is read:  
That science is not meant to touch  
Or covet, cleave, or count or clone,  
Please leave my soul and I alone.  
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