Breaking from the day;
Taking a moment of joy;
Doing as pleases;
Just a tease of what might be;
But will never be;
A mere daydream.
A whim for later thought.
Maybe later regret.
Just an afternoon.

The bones of angel wings
resting tightly inside the tiny body
stroked by the mother's loving hand.
The bones of angel wings
while a young woman
grasped with greedy lust
by first love.
The bones of angel wings
weary with work
and achievement.
The bones of angel wings
again stroked by loving hand
to free to other existence.
Folded tight inside;
Awaiting the time to burst forth;
Covered with the will to live;
Fighting with purpose
To hide amongst the living.
The angel wings freed to flight
from earth.

My life is for your convenience.
I pour your coffee
and wash your back.
Forgotten that I have a path.
When one time, it was your goal.
Now you soak me
With the simplicity
of your unimportant.
We drift in the Hell
of nonconsequential.
Chatting the same topics.
However, I can't stop,
because if I do
you will be gone from me.
This is what we have.
Trapped between what was
and just being.

Looked across at him;
Concentration firm;
Focused on ahead;
Blue eyes searching the page;
Almost done;
For me just a beginning;
Next phase alone;
Holding steady;
Not to compare;
Leaning forward for an easy time.
That never quite comes.
Dust floating the light
to fall in dark corners.
Trapped in the wait
For a better day.

Wouldn't it be a shame...
If Mother Teresa and Hilter
are in the same place.
Not to share his darkness.
Hopefully to share her light.
Perhaps, he was a sick man
Who needed to be healed.
He was a bad man
who needed to be stopped.
Maybe if they are in the same place,
She has helped him heal.
Wouldn't it be a shame...
For bad not to know
the kindness of good
to only see the weakness.
Wouldn't it be a shame...
For goodness never to have
the opportunity to heal.

Downtown in dark ballroom;
Empty but for two;
Dressed for the prom unattended;
Sixteen, in love.
Forbidden, but desired.
Music on the phone.
Protective chin resting on
Gently tilting head.
Eyes shut feeling the moment.
Forbidden, but not forgotten.
Belonging and loved.
Their own personal prom.

Out in the open.
So wrong,
so much hurt for all.
If I could **** it
all inside like air
making it
leave the earth,
I would.
Yet it is there,
pain for all,
for all to suffer.
Your mistake, but
I would take it
deep inside
if I could so
you no longer
felt its stain.