This is just an old poem of mine I like...
Yes, it's bad... Yes, I still like it...
Unlikely Angel
An angel in a black leather jacket
Taking a slow drag of his cigarette
Leaning against his black bike
Dark hair, long, framing a translucent face
Shadowy eyes glaring up over frosted lips
Silver-tipped ebony wings simply there
An angel holding a dark bottle to his lips,
The tattoo on his should hidden from searching eyes
Just of silvery black wings
They think he’s hardcore
No fear staring down the barrels of loaded guns,
Feeling a knife slip under his skin
An angel who toys with death but protects me from it
Not letting me say thank you,
Pressing his finger to my lips
Unfeeling b*****d they have called him
I know him as the one who cared
Kindness beneath a mask of stoic reserve
An angel who saw me crying
Holding me tight
Quietly making everything right.
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