Angel


I was lured to a path of that of an angel
here in the stupid depths of hell
with skin, hair, and face as a cherubim
and whose smiles give hints of heavenly essence
that light up this damned planet so dim.
Strange it is in her divine presence
she has no wings that flap
only ears that clap
to the sound of our hearts beating.
And if ever she has wings
I’d chop them off, you’ll see
to condemn her to a life on earth with me.
Trying to hold or hug to possess
this beauteous angel is indeed useless
for when I look in her eyes
and when she looks in my eyes
although we don’t converse
in rhetoric verse
said the universe
our hands perfectly fit
and our hearts just lit
for we are one soul that split.

A birthday poem for my twin sister/best friend, Angel.

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