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The Angels
I hear their call
always calling...
upon my poor forgotten soul.
Why don't they come?
I want to touch their wings
to walk threw a field of flowers
to feel them kiss my feet.
But this poor body
is to weak for anything.
Please don't abandon
me like they did.
Come to me.
I want to ride upon your back,
hold your golden feathers
and feel the abandonment
wash away,
run down my back and
drop onto those who
turned their back on me.
I'm waiting.
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