The skies are bluer


The skies are bluer and the
grass is greener.
With angels in my life.
Children are gifts from God.
Some children go astray.
But all were born angels.
We hope and pray all will die
angels.
Those that don't we pray for there souls.
IT'S a shame that we all can't see
We have wings.
That are waiting to come out.
When we are to leave here.
Some choose not to see that
So they never spread there wings
and fly.
TheEnd

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