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The Heartache of Angels

There were angels in the room,

When he told me not to cry.

They shook their heads,

and I heard them sigh.

And glancing up,

I thought I could see,

a tear drenched angel,

 looking back at me.

How must it be?

To be an angel, upon high,

To have to watch the lonely cry.

To have to stand big and tall,

and watch, as the genuine people fall,

as they slip on their tears. 

To have to let them think their alone,

when time and again,

they miss,

all of what they have been shown.

How heartbreaking it must be,

to love somebody,

who can’t see,

their own beauty.

 

So much potential in this world,

that we have not yet unfurled. 

So many times when we could be,

The light somebody else needs to see.

Why must we be so unashamed,

In the times we have not claimed,

The responsibility, 

Of the souls we choose to be?

Is it any wonder,

That they cry, 

as they watch love slowly die?

Is it a wonder,

When they see,

how we've stripped humanity?

So much potential in this world,

that we have not yet unfurled. 

So many times when we could be,

The light somebody else needs to see.

Why must we be so unashamed,

In the times we have not claimed,

The responsibility,

Of the souls we choose to be?

Is it any wonder,

That they cry, 

as they watch love slowly die?

Is it a wonder,

When they see,

how we've stripped humanity?



By, Carrie Croteau







Carrie Croteau · 64 days ago
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The Heartache of Angels