Some angels never fly

even with the most

beautiful

and glorious of wings.

 

Something anchors them to the

boring and pedestrian ground

and usually they are attached to the undeserving.

 

Maybe she is afraid to fly,

afraid to spread her wings and be

vulnerable

or to be loved as she deserves to be.

 

There are cracks in the happy of your life

and I watched them between perfect smiles

as something in me was falling

deep into the well of experience.

 

Sadness splashed up as acid to lick

my always-healing heart and

I know I am not the lucky one

or the one at all

and neither are you

with those chains wrapped around your neck

in this big tragedy of loving and living.

 

Don’t close your heart for him,

don’t give your heart away for

half a heart,

half a brain;

half a man.

 

I ache to watch you fly

and be as only you could be,

but maybe the tired irony of life

will come along and make

a tragedy out of beauty and brilliance

as it is known to do.