A Progress


Real Angels hide behind passions
While the old souls wear the holy headphones
Find a piece of wood
“Knock, knock, knock”
Everyone hopes to hold some of the old
As youth rumbles on…
Life is a tattered canvas
Withered and torn from experience,
But the painter still lives
Life goes on and on
The canvas never ends
Even though things seem so empty sometimes
Creativity is…
Hidden in the fun of intelligence
Knowledge can be used
Outside of the textbooks
The human Spirit floats in pieces
Too easily prone to separation
Let Love be the glue
As everybody struggles,
Tell each human being,
“Little Angel, dance”
Start the movement of excitement
Replace the mundane with enthusiasm
Ready, Set, Go!
Find the passions waiting,
For that is where the real Angels are hiding

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem