angel, darling
why do you sit there with your hands between your knees,
folded over, curled in as if nobody loves you?
is it your small wings? they'll grow.
oh, I know they'll grow. and you'll fly
gliding along, chasing sunsets and skimming rainbows
with those lovely white wings of yours
you'll be the talk of heaven.
until that day comes, let me hold you.
we can wait together
cry together
until your day comes,
freeing you
and if you fall
chasing sunsets and skimming rainbows,
you'll know where to come
to mend those lovely white wings
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