Forgotten Angels

Do the heavens hear their cries? How can they let these children slowly die? I pray now spare them from agony Sew their wings and set them free For they are not slaves of poverty But of souls unworthy of their sanity A song for you my child It is not your fault You are not born to cry A child is a child Even if he sleeps in a bed of sweets or in the busy streets In your eyes pure innocence and love In your hopes and dreams you must fly like a dove High as the angels above Never will the sirens wake you Never will the stones hurt you Never will the cold bite you For tonight you will not wake in fright Rest in peace my child The moon will swallow your woes The stars will weave your dreams And they will make you warm as you sleep -Forgotten Angels, Margaret Austin Go

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margaret-austin-go

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