tagNon-Erotic PoetryShe wasn't dressed like an angel

She wasn't dressed like an angel


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.

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byUnderYourSpell© 2 comments/ 1625 views/ 1 favorites

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