PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Soul Seekers


Some people, they are soul seekers

They seek out what others try to hide

Behind bright white smiles

And masks of lies

Soul seekers, they see you through and through

Over and underneath

All around and in between

They see your very core

They see the fires that cannot be quenched

And they smell the rotten stench

Of the secrets you can’t escape

Of the memories that never fade

 

Some people, they are soul seekers

They march around the walls you’ve built

They sing, they shout, they play their horns

And the walls come tumbling down

The soul seekers, they sing

They sing your songs of sadness

Of anger and of pain.

Your heartbeat is their drum

They sing you to sleep when it rains

When the storm clouds roll, they sing

When the sun shines bright, they sing

When it’s the air is frigid and you can see your breath, they sing

In the darkness, in the absence of light, they still sing

The soul seekers…

they sing.

They sing and they shout.

They shout through the muddled thoughts

That bounce between your ears

They shout through all the screaming

The voices you’ve heard for years.

In the silence.

In the silence, she whispers,

“I am here.”

The soul seekers, they shout above the noise

They help you find your voice

The soul seekers, they sing, they shout

And do they play their horns!

They play, they play until their lips are sore

And when their hands start to bleed,

They play some more

When there is no longer solace in the solitude

They play this song, just for you

They march around the wall of your heart

Where graffiti has been splattered

And the mortar is coming undone

They march and they play

As your walls start to tremble

They march and they play

When the concrete starts to chip away

They march and they play

Because they seek to devour your soul

To read its words and eat them whole

To sing along with the songs in perfect harmony

To shout and quiet all the noise

When the dissonance is resounding

They sing, they shout, they play their horns

And the walls come tumbling down.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.