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I thought I saw an Angel crying,
Up there within the storm clouds.
Her tears falling with the rain,
Her sobs hidden by the sound of thunder.

I thought I saw an Angel trying,
So hard to understand those she protects.
Never seeing in the folly of so many wars,
Wondering why there is the need to fight.

I thought I saw an Angel dying,
From the lack of emotions down below.
Her heart torn by the hatred being formed,
As she felt the love flowing far away.

I thought I saw an Angel flying,
Soaring up on beautiful wings.
Because she was never giving up hope,
For she knew we still had far to come.
copyright Chris Smith 2011
Reins grasp me unannounced,
It pulls relentless at my body and soul.
Insanity revealed itself.
Trapped in mind, ready to explode.
Like a placed grenade, thought to be a dud.

Cascading myself back to the hellhole called Earth.
The strings of sanity,
Were hanging from its one remaining thread.
Where did I go astray?
This abyss of gray and white.
Of abstract colors, has become my home.
Seering pain at the back of his throat, he could just make her out through the haze."Megan",Byron wondered if she could hear him, taking a deep breath, he held his arm over his face. He made a bee line straight for Megan, noticing her hand gestures for him to move, never, not without her.
A beam was shooting off sparks in all directions, causing Byron to lose sight for just a second. He felt a crushing pain in his ribs, he fell back trying to steady himself. Then another, and the beam landed between them, exploding into a million fireflies. The heat became unbearable, he was blind, hot, and heart broken."We love you my darling, always"
"And counting back buddy, we go, 10,9,8, and you're slowly coming back, so, 7,6," Byron didn't want to come back, not without her." And 5, Bryon, 4,3, and your eyes are feeling lighter,".He woke to the sense that he'd been crying, his face was wet, he was breathless, and his heart hurt so, so much.
"So, tell me, can you remember why you were clutching your chest buddy?"It all became so clear, it just opened up like a blooming flower, she pushed him! Megan pushed him from the falling beam, causing it to strike her.She, she saved his life!.
Jake sat back in his chair with his hands behind his head and sighed, his job was done. "I love my job", grinning like a cat that got the cream."Drink?". Byron sat up and pursed his face with his hands."Why don't i feel better man?", something was bugging him. Jake stood up and helped Bryon to his feet. "Let's go get that drink buddy, then i'll complete the puzzle for you, you're ready".......
copyright chris smith/eileen mcgreevy 2011
Can a poet write a poem
For the sake writing a poem?
I think he will certainly can
But it becomes mere fun

A poet needs to be emotionally touched
His creativity is incredibly recharged
A beautiful poem is instantly released
And the reader is immeasurably pleased

Unless something touches his heart
There can be no creation of everlasting art
Spontaneous overflow of emotions is poet’s natural part
It makes his poems immensely smart

A poet can't always write at his best
He needs to pass the readers' test
If jaded, he needs considerable rest
His poem becomes  the seeting sun in the west
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