The Shape Of A Soul Poem by Bob Oldfield

The shape of her tiny soul
Which pleads in vain for friendship
Is an image of
A vase, beautiful but cracked,
With a piece missing
Leaking and messy
Waiting for flowers

The sadness in her eyes.
An image which tells the story
In words louder than a shout
In emotions more crushing
Than a road roller

The droop of her head
The shuffle of her feet
The avoidance of eye contact
Speaks a lifetime
Of pain and neglect
In truth the result of
A slow removal
Of adult affection

The anger in her voice
Growls with a hunger
For love and acceptance.
A heart
Broken in pieces
Needing restoration

But this vase need not
Go under the hammer
To be smashed apart
And thrown away

Instead
Apply the glue of love,
(A bonding compound
Of beautiful things and
Caring people)
And cover in a mixture
Of unconditional acceptance
And absolute forgiveness

Insert flowers again