Some say he is crazy, some say he is lazy.
But his soul is cold, aways bold.
His face has seen, darkness unfold.
Some say he is an angel, some say he the devil.
He carries gifts, and a curse, the worse of them all.
His soul is never cold always, hot.
They have spotted him.
He ran, they shot!
Junius Barnes
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-soul-6/
