Sometimes Angels give up their wings to live among us.
Perhaps they envy life among us dirt preferring green grass, over gold streets.
I know an Angel
and even with out her forfeited feathered phalanges she floats into a room she’s super…
like the super soft naps on her crown
she’s a queen.
Forsakes her wings but hides her halo in her smile.
Heaven hovers in her words.
She encourages me with just a hello .
Her hugs warm me from the inside out.
But The problem with pure personalities preferring to be people playing in the dirt
is that the soil our souls sit in has been corrupted,
subjected to frailties since the fall.
If we’re not fighting our flesh
it’s fighting us,
all out war!
The Geneva Convention should consider cancer a war crime.
A weapon of mass destruction .
The only counter attacks we have poisons the very ground we’re trying to take back.
Chemo causes the crowns of kings and queens to crack and crumble.
Our earth has low self esteem
unable to accept better.
We have a tendency to reject the best.
Ask the Lamb and the Lion of Judah.
Maybe her body is rejecting her,
is too good
This poem was written a few years ago for a friend fighting cancer. She won that war!! Now another friend needs these words.
With all the bags you have,
with everything that weighs you down,
why would you burden yourself with someone else's?
Why are you carrying the hate of someone who never crossed you
for a friend who let it go a handful of blue moons ago?
You must be so tired.
That bag you carry is like a black hole
but infinitely hallow.
Let it go!
How do you touch any one with those calloused hands...
and enjoy it?
The weight of bag straps have elongated your fingers making it easier for you to point the blame
fueled by the half truth
completely skewed perception
of what you think happened.
Till the gravity of those bags severed your finger tips.
You hold on to those bags even though its pointless.
I don't know you
or care enough about you to have this conversation face to face
but I hope this speech will reach someone I do care about
and don't know they're endanger of severed finger tips.
will get the
Note: This was written a while back after reading someones FaceBook post (I think). Someone was hating on someone by proxy.