Red Velvet

Little angel once so pure

Now only called a failure.

Tried to fly only to be crushed

time after time after time.

He wants to touch the sky,

but soarin through a storm leaves him nothing

but tired and sore.

 

Little Angel once so pure

is doing all wrong.

Smoke taints his wings ,

He is always soaring

from the joints he rolls in the mornings.

Now he is flying high, reckless, destructive,

but not invincible.

Inside he is trying to douse the demons and storms

that run rampant in his mind.

 

Little Angel once so pure behind his exterior

he is a crumpled, broken soul.

Lost and wandering without a home.

Getting into trouble so someone might hear

his screams of agony and defeat.

Once so neat, he is a wreck, a twisted, tortured, mess.

Alone in the darkened pits of life with the worst demons,

who he just cannot defeat.

 

Little Angel once so pure.

His wings are dipped in red velvet blood.

he had had enough of his chaos,

he wanted it done tonight.

He fights his storm and ends up the victor,

the problem is dead.

He wanders now, his wings pure black.

A trail of blood wherever he tracks.
The demons clear his path,

The angels turn their backs,

he wanders alone.

The Little Angel once so pure,walks alone,

A Murder.

 

This poem is about: 
My community

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