The Spirit

[whitfield]

Feel not what has once been
A musical tune bemused and clean
Free from the dirt beneath our feet
Soil lay naturally unlike the asphalt in the street
We would replace ourselves for the benefit of convenience
All the while locking ourselves in a cage devoid of freeness
But in due time, the record would be set straight
Like an arrow, sharp and pointed, but bent to break
The target would be missed, time and time again
But we are free to wander; better than a friend
A feeling has emerged, long and forgotten
Something once considered foul and rotten
Let us incite past into present
It’s glow of life iridescent