walking over a bridge
to see the verge
where i can fly
away from the ache
the he caused
someone dragged my shirt
tiny hands
covered in pink
cheeks that are beaming
with eyes that are sincere
i stepped back
and went home with her
she's an angel
a healer and a savior
children are angels.
YOU ARE READING
ninth avenue - poetry
Poetry__ heavenly bodies only know where you are now. maybe i was not holding on too tight as you slipped away. wasn't i still yours? __
