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A Spirit Pure

It hurt so much it robbed her soul,
and drove her cross the line

The men she knew, the men she loved,
the pain thought once sublime

The last man in, the last man out,
now done with men for good

Her passion torn, her body raped,
a woman she now took

She lived her life on foreign lands,
with mirrors that denounce

She washed the staining from her hands,
returning count for count

And when she died the parson said,
upon this somber day

“A spirit pure but torn in half
—the best part cast away”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
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Submitted by Kurt Philip Behm on February 10, 2020

Modified by Kurt Philip Behm

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Kurt Philip Behm

Longtime writer with twelve books in publication. Three of them Poetry. : The Death Of The Playground : The Sword Of Ichiban : Searching For Crazy Horse : Darkening Sun : An Anthology Of Perception-Vol's 1 & 2 : After Midnight : Sammy And Bumpers : The Fall City Mandate : Revenge Along The War Trail : Death from The Sky more…

All Kurt Philip Behm poems | Kurt Philip Behm Books

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