Drawing Angels

Singed wings see my fall
toss another empty bottle across that old graveyard hall where everyone smiles upside down Washington's nowhere to be found

And even the clowns have a 401K plan
on how to make a million plus fans before the circus all but leaves town packs up, aborts another forgotten clown 'these singed wings can't break our fall Hush, don't say a word' It'll martyr all... she said

Cradled in the sands of life
sinking through lust and lovely strife She was an echoed butterfly drawing angels in the snow smiling to the tune of an inner afterglow

With her contract buried beneath
a place she visits when she's cast out of the land of demons at mass She knows, this is a precious slide So she snuffs the fear and enjoys the ride

Her wings are wet, renewed
Hush, don't say a word Because it may martyr all... or save a few ~

© David Powers July 23, 2010

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