Fallen Angel

My hands drawn to pockets,
Head drawn to the floor.
The rain falling upon windows
Like shadows of butterflies;

If I could every drop of rain
And shed every petal of pain
To forget about you
And learn to breath again,

I could count the stars
That dream in the sky-
To forget about you,
Loosen my wings-and fly;

I could watch clouds bloom
As curtains of rain draw close,
Remember it is you I dream of
Like a warm sun, upon a rose.

Copyright© 1999 by Vail Aproeschol
All Rights Reserved