Falling....
Falling....
Look above at the sky
Don't you see them fall from heights
Here to show us basic understanding
Show us common sense can be common again
They come with scars on there arms
They come with bloodshot eyes
They come as beggars
They come as the poor
They don't have much to their name
They are the ones we need to listen to when skies are grey.
They give love to the unlovable
Forgive the unforgivable
Cease the tears of lost children
Show kindness to the wicked
They are fallen angels here to show us that even kindness can come from anywhere.
Every star you see in the sky
Every grain of sand
Every blade of grass
Every tear that has ever been shed
is the number of them that watch us all
They'll never come from power because that's where everyone would look
They'll never come as a millionaire because that's what everyone listens to
They don't see the worth of a dollar
They don't see pride coming from power
They are the humblest of us all
They only have a penny for our thoughts
They won't judge the ones that have fallen astray
They won't kill the ones that have stabbed them in the back
We never have to fear if they are near
We never have to afraid of the monsters that we face
Bc fallen angels protect us and spread God's grace.
God has sent these angels as our hope
There is one for everyone
Maybe even two
They are watching you now
Will you listen to what they have to say?
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
Midnight
60 seconds… 59 seconds… Time was slipping through his fingers, though he clawed at the falling grains of sand, he could not stop the hourglass from flowing. Around him, the silence was deafening. He had taken over every screen in the command centre, putting the terrible seconds before the terrified eyes of his friends and comrades.
By Alexander McEvoy4 days ago in Fiction
Snacktime Sonata Challenge Winners
Well, your Snacktime Sonatas made us hungry, and that’s about the highest compliment we have. Food — taste, smell, sensation — is a powerful conduit to the past, to memories pleasurable and painful and sometimes bittersweet, a mixture of comfort and challenge. Congratulations to Penny Fuller for Sativa — it’s a first win for Penny — a hymn to the “secret, unbounded/freedoms” of fresh peas in the pod. The narrative voice of the poem doesn’t really want to be outside, but finds joy in the green things of the earth; this is a lovely work of resilience.
By Vocal Team7 days ago in Resources
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.