Terribly old, written:
November 2, 2007
...Today I oddly remembered it, fondly so. I had written a comment under it saying, "I'm not ready to say it,"
Today I am. The words aren't as strong, but there is the memory, for me, for how much it meant.
*
Trying to be an angel for you
With the light of innocence and love shining
That's in my eyes, and the soft glow of my body
I will be that light
That serves to guide
Your safe harbor, when you are falling apart
With the wings of protection and security
That graces me, with the strength it gives me
I will be the place
That’s promised to be safe
Your place to run to, when you can’t take anybody
With the strength of my heart and soul
That came from your gifted hands and words
I’m sorry
Don’t worry
I will be here when the world crumbles and burns
Trying to be an angel for you
I Believe in Beautiful Words
About Me
- Color Changed
- "I write like people doodle and sing in the shower. All the time, anything, yet always seemingly less than adequate." -Me. Blogs are here for me to put random thoughts And for random people to read? That seems idiotic and futile. What do I gain from my out-put? Surely you gain nothing from this in-put If I keep rambling on and on, will you keep reading? That seems foolish. Why are you wasting time? And why am I? . (Not all poetry may be listed in the right order or writing, follow the dates at the beginning of each writing. Inconvenience I know- Oh well-)
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