Wearing Black
The angels are wearing black and dropping roses on the graves of the mislead souls. Their tears are creating floods for the rest lost in their troubles. The soil to bury the coffins are taken from cloud nine, and dissipated in smoke, leaving the raw pain for us to see. But they don’t see it and they cry anyway. I wish I remembered how to cry so that I can be an angel because the angels are wearing black and dropping white roses on the graves of the mislead souls.
This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 11th, 2006 at 9:28 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.