Red drips dropping,
Falling through the cracks,
Plip-plip-plopping,
Rolling down their backs.
Atop which once lay,
Wings of white & gold,
Those which now stay,
On the ground - hard & cold.
Although their beauty now is gone,
They still push through the dark,
For until the war is surely done,
No angels will give up their spark.
YOU ARE READING
K47 Poetry Book
PoetryJust.. All of my poems. Put into one place where I can share them without typing them up constantly. Please don't copy any of these, as I worked hard on them. Thank you. Note: If there is a writing where the title has asterisks (*) around it, READ A...
