In the City of the Angels

In The City of the Angels

She’s a city angel; lungs filled with carbon monoxide
and concrete dust. Dwelling with the likes of her
in their own metropolis. It’s right there on the map,
in-between all those saints.

Despite the sun her existence is anything but bright
ironically enough. Skyscrapers seem to block it
all out somehow. Deprived of vital pieces in
her puzzle she gets ill.

More often than not nausea is the main event of
her dragged out days. Spawning from a headache
throbbing on her mind. If just you look closely
you could tell by the twitch of her eyes.

Her few friends would say she doesn’t sigh as heavily
as she used to. Truth is they don’t really listen
actively anymore. And mistake her apathy
for content without thinking twice.

With features so dimmed no one would ever think her
capable of flying. Her wings are simply an extra
weight she has to carry. Convinced that it causes
that back pain of hers.

So they all tell her to pull them out and let those workaholic
synapses in her neck take a vacation.

They all tell her that the dust and the dirt is fused to
every single, crooked feather.

And they all tell her she’s not the only one to mourn,
reminding her it’s the city of broken dreams.

But she always finds a way to shake it of and somehow
manages to carry on. Proclaiming that a half smile is
better than nothing. Even though a prisoner of
gravity her aim is high.

With a simple look on her it wouldn’t cross any minds
that she dreams big. Her agony would seem to
burden her too much. But she knows in her own mind
that one day she’ll fly.

Copyright © 2007