Glittering, shimmering were the pieces
And the passers by breathed “Oh Jesus”
Surrounding her was her skirt, with blood-stained creases
Slowly, slightly into well worn grooves
Surviving, striving hard, life moves
Moves past her, past the bright change that was strewn loose
A stream through the thick
A pall that shades over everything, a sudden flick
When the angel was swept away by a demonic lick
Struggling as we are unable
To overcome her same fate, her line finally stable
Life’s precious, and it can flip, it’s breakable.
This poem was inspired by a deviation made by ilessthan3you. Gave me these thoughts and so I just let ramble. There was more, but thought that this itself was quite unsteady.