Hostage

It’s like a part of my soul has been cut out. 

And it’s lost, but I see it, 

In the corners of the streets, in poetry I read,

The visions I dream, it’s right there

The breadth of a hair away, 

But I can’t get it back- you’ve held it hostage.

It’s like a part of my soul has been cut out.

What would it take,

What would you take?

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