A Tattered Old Soul Poem by cora fazio

My soul is old and tattered,
worn through in one large spot.
Patches of Love hold it together,
without which I'd be not.
My soul is old and tattered,
thread bare, shredded here and there.
I wish my soul was new again
as in youth without a care.
My soul is old and tattered,
soaked with tears of hope and dread.
Yet washed with a soap of happiness,
as I layed my babes to bed.
My soul is old and tattered,
this is how that it must be.
I wouldn't trade it for a new one
Because this one belongs to me.