A Bleeding Angel

I came across a bleeding angel.
She was half way across the street.
Her hair was green but her tongue was red.
There were blisters on her feet.
She asked me for some guidance
For she had clearly gone astray.
All I could give her were pennies from heaven
To see her on her way.


A month or two passed between us.
Or maybe it was more.
I was looking for coffee to shelter the storm
She was standing by the door.
I considered asking her to join me,
But she wasn’t dressed the part.
And when I was done, she had gone with the sun
I felt  a shiver wound my heart.


I saw her picture in the paper next  morning
“Another lost soul pays the price”
The church held a funeral, but nobody came
Just the priest, myself and some mice.
Though I don’t know why, I glanced up at the sky
And I felt my body shake.
The clouds were all red, yet another angel dead
And no one down there to be present at the wake.

 www.original-wit.net © 2017 by Steve Taite