I was born beneath gargantuan Midwestern skies, Fed on authority that dished out endless lies, My heart longed for something more, My heart yearned for peace and war. I traveled across ocean and land, guitar in hand, Playing lucid songs as ephemeral as sand, My mind was caught on virgin red-hair, My mind was trapped in the cat's lair. I returned home, a man made anew, one of the few, Working and writing, I turned to pagan pew, My soul embraced the returning day, My soul returned to ancestral clay. Hearts and minds can be changed, But souls remain the same.
Simple, sharp, imprints it's meaning onto the mind smoothly and effectively. No wasted words or verbal excess. Technically and spiritually a great poem..
Beautiful!