Bandaids

They say

To this very day

A bandaid 

Is always handy

when it comes to someone’s aid

I myself do not say

To this very much damned day

A bandaid can aid

Any wound on its and in its way

It might be able to suppress a simple cut

Or an effortless finger’s rut

But if bandaids can save a reckless soul

That has been cut and torn

Through a brambled hole

I will simply look on

For amazement has left me worn

For that bandaid has saved something so forlorn

Do things that save have to be materialistic?

The bandaids leave my soul ballistic

They are not able to withstand a grip 

As the souls 

Drip

Drip

Drip

Away from the light and through those musty holes

A brand of fire awaits them there

This surely surprises them here

For in them is no faith

And any belief that would bring them high

But it seems just now that they will die