I sit and I stare
                         At the angel silently praying
                                                         ­               perched on a stack of books
Waiting.

The beliefs of others
                                  Do not rest in me
                                                              ­  But this small angel sees
Into me.

She waits for me to realize
                                              Something
 ­                                             Anything
           ­                                ...Nothing  
                                                    ­            She waits like a gargoyle
for nothing.

That little angel
                           Keeps me thinking however
                                                         ­                   about what she thinks exactly
I'll sit thinking forever
Because glass angels do not speak
Or so I thought