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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Angel

Photo prompt from Magpie Tales #51
The telephone rings
It's you on the line
I can hear the Jack in your voice
You say that you've been thinking of me all night
But I know that you just called me up
To share your latest disaster
You were lonely and hoping
That I could put things right

So come on over
I'll share my bed
I'll share my last bottle of wine
We'll talk about her
And how she broke your heart
Then you'll tell me
If you'd been smart
You would have stayed with me
And you'll hold me 
Until you start feeling fine

Anyone looks like a savior
When you're face down in the mud
Your madonna is the first hem you can grab
But will I see you at my door
When you're feeling fine
Or only when your days are looking drab?

You tell me I'm too good for you
I'm an angel of this earth
That you can't change
Your damage and your taint
But I would gladly trade these wings
If I could hold your hand
I'd rather be your lover
Than your saint