the soul

     
     
     
   this flesh like an outfit....clothes; bones like a coat rack-making the fit hold....      
     
    a journey.... one's soul hasn't chose;      
made to believe, that there's great value in gold....      
     
 one's soul, wants to let this body goooo.... somewhere, where it feels it's not controlled....      
   
 each day is just a number up away, from where? no one knows....    
   
  each day is just another day in the life  of the captive soul, while it wonders of the post-destination that it goes....