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Description

I think I’ve met my guardian angel.

It slinks through the rusted pipes,
seeping between the cracks in the cement
and finding its way through the
carcasses of rats and starved dogs
in search of beauty.

It marvels at the skyscrapers
that it knows will crumble down
with one word from its master.
The smell of smoke and rotted
breath it inhales every second
keeps it alive.

It creeps through alleyways,
o’er splintered glass and
dampened cardboard boxes
(THIS WAY UP, CAUTION, CONTENTS
ARE FRAGILE)
beneath torn-away flyers
that read of fantasy lands
and fairytale stories
that never were.
It finds its way
to me.

To everyone else I was

everything else.
I was the rusted pipes,
the cracks in the cement
the starved dead dogs
the crumbling skyscrapers
the smell of smoke
the splintered glass
the cardboard boxes (THIS WAY UP)
the torn-away flyers
everything else
that didn't matter.

To my guardian angel
I was the fairytale story.

I know I've met my guardian angel.

Description

I think I’ve met my guardian angel.

It slinks through the rusted pipes,
seeping between the cracks in the cement
and finding its way through the
carcasses of rats and starved dogs
in search of beauty.

It marvels at the skyscrapers
that it knows will crumble down
with one word from its master.
The smell of smoke and rotted
breath it inhales every second
keeps it alive.

It creeps through alleyways,
o’er splintered glass and
dampened cardboard boxes
(THIS WAY UP, CAUTION, CONTENTS
ARE FRAGILE)
beneath torn-away flyers
that read of fantasy lands
and fairytale stories
that never were.
It finds its way
to me.

To everyone else I was

everything else.
I was the rusted pipes,
the cracks in the cement
the starved dead dogs
the crumbling skyscrapers
the smell of smoke
the splintered glass
the cardboard boxes (THIS WAY UP)
the torn-away flyers
everything else
that didn't matter.

To my guardian angel
I was the fairytale story.

I know I've met my guardian angel.