I see you walk in the street,
torn and lost,
no home, no friends,
but the angel know,

in minds eye nothing everlasting,
nothing to look on,
sitting in a world of darkness,
people going past,
the angel care,

yet never seeing you there,
alone in the darkness,
your home in the street.
and all you have is a bottle, and a bag,
your life represented in those two,
but the angels know

stormy water, coldness, is all on offer,
a simple meal eaten in a bag,
everytime you look,
no smiles no laughter,
emotions nothing,
but angels care,

a place of no return,
not by choice,
but by circumstance
endured to the bitter end,

the street walker
living in the darkness.
but angel will always shine
least something even if they dont know
the messengers win the day.

© 2003 by Frank
Temple of Light