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Angel, wandered

They told me she was an angel

I didn’t doubt that

I looked back and saw

Her blonde curls, perfect

Her blue eyes, perfect

Her fair skin, perfect

She had always been angelic

 

Nothing changed the fact

That she had wandered

From faith

From me

From her family

from home

and into the town

called “Nazareth”

where they found her

 

In the bed of the man’s truck

Her blonde curls soaked

With the blood

Her blue eyes wide open

Staring at the man

Who shoved the knife

Into her fair skin

And left her there

Alone

 

We all stood dressed in black

Looking at the polished stone

A statue of an angel

I began to cry

And my mom held me

She told me she was an angel

I didn’t doubt that

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v
Written by
victoria-erausquin
American
Published
Aug 25, 2010
Lines·Words
32·132
Notes

The first of a short series I've been working on. It's about a series of murders, inspired by the play "Fugue" It's a ten minute play, I'd advise reading it.

Permission

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