The Poet in My Soul

A Song by Edward Waters
(Copyright © June 1991)


It seems the older that this body gets to be,
I grow less certain of the things that I see.
When I was young my eyes were bright, my vision well defined;
O can it be that I am going blind?
Maybe it's just part of growing old;
Maybe it's a faith that's growing cold;
Or maybe youth has ever been too bold.
Maybe it's the poet in my soul.

I see a world of people yearning to know peace,
Yet haunted by the ghosts of a past they won't release.
They long for love, and yet they guard themselves as their own
And so ensure they'll always be alone.
Maybe it's their need to keep control;
Maybe love is too much more to hold.
Maybe I see more than can be told;
Maybe it's the poet in my soul.

Would that I could heal the fear I glimpse in the eyes,
The heart that's hid beneath a smile of disguise;
But sturdy walls hold well against both enemy and friend,
And who can say who's conquered in the end?
Maybe some hearts never can be whole;
Maybe I should let this doom unfold;
But something in me can't accept that role --
Maybe it's the poet in my soul.

With age I learn anew how to be bold;
Maybe it's the poet in my soul.