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Mar 2015
The liquefied glass through which an Angel can pass or
look solemnly on,
is an impregnable force but of course
not for Angels I see.
I have yet to be an Angel.

I walk on the edge of incredible dreams and it
all seems quite plausible to me,
I have yet to be an Angel.

In the fullness of time when
the glass is half empty
she comes with a refill
to fill me.
I have yet to be an Angel.

There are tracks laid down hard in
the marshalling yard and the
marshalling yard is me.
I have yet to be an Angel.

I'm in no hurry, I'm aware that
time chews on glass through which
Angels can pass.
I have yet to be an Angel.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
698
   Anderson M and Jayanta
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