Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Not An Angel



When you come to me with that amount of excitement
Your story flows like a river stream
Your eyes were sparkling tiny stars

When I hold your hand
Your enchanting crescent smile
Stuffing my heart with all of your lovable self

You weren’t an angel

I stare at my empty hands
This space won’t fit yours anymore
That vintage chair…
Looking so old and dry

The book we used to read
Aren’t your happiness anymore
The little duckling sketch you loved
Growing old on itself

The green leaves you came to water every morning
Mourning for the loss
And is now calling the death angel for themselves

You weren’t an angel

You weren’t an angel

You are not an angel
.
.
.
I know
I knew
I understand


Green Room, Aug 26, 2015
Little one, I miss you…
 


~ Aira