- Non-Erotic Poetry
- She wasn't dressed like an angel
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She wasn't dressed like an angel,
in tattered jeans
and words of a street wise kid,
belying her greying hair.
God only knows why she stopped off
reached down
and dragged me back to living
when all seemed lost
in this cardboard city.
No home or wife, no fast car,
all lost to greed
the desire for more, more, more.
A rat scuttled in the darkness
as maybe she too
looked for warmth, companionship
the instinctive need of body contact
and when it was over, I cried.
She held me, still within her,
and whispered comfort
this angel who saved my life tonight.
- COMMENTS
normal jeanover 13 years agoIt is put together like the pro you are Annie, but how did the "angel" save the speaker's life? Even though it felt like a detail was missing, I still enjoyed your craftsmanship.
~ NJ
