Fallen Angel
Tattered clothes, disheveled hair
Her home, anywhere, everywhere
Dirt, filth and cruelty, hatred and love
All things have been seen, by her and the lord above
Scoffing noticeably, they avoid her glance
No one to see, or to give her a chance
Sitting on the side of the road
Lighting a cigarette, while alone and cold
Over privileged children will stare
But this fallen angel cannot care
Her home is greater than all of theirs combined
Her home is that great place in the sky
Sunday, June 3, 2007
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