A Frail Old Angel Cry
Last night I had a dream It had a tale to tell. I dreamed I saw an angel, Poor thing, he wasn't feeling well. His body bruised & battered His wings were ripped & torn, This angel could hardly walk, He looked so tired & worn. I walked right up to him to ask, Angel? How could this be? He turned around & paused a bit, Than he spoke to me. These bruises are from from shielding you In times both dire & ill, Those alcoholic bouts & drugs you've used I've often paid the bill. You see my wings are ripped & torn, How often they have flown you From evils unaware, Each mark has it's own story Of deadly wounds distroyed. You made me wish one more time that I was unemployed. If only you could make it Standing on your own. Oh, don't you fret or worry, But please try to remember, I'm getting old & frail. I could not believe all I had heard, Let alone how much he cared. I wept upon his shoulder, Then left him in dispair. The next day I sat & pondered, Should I really try? And in the distance I thought I heard A frail old angel cry!~Author Unknown~
