deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Short on Angels
Seventy degrees outside,
walkin’ down to the market.
Music was playing-
some Mexican kid was strumming.
An old Spanish song no one knew-
enchanting nonetheless.
I stumbled when she came,
around that corner,
like an angel had crashed.
The light stung my eyes.
The hell was wrong with me?
My legs stiffened up,
lungs left me gasping-
A fool I was.
She had freckles 'cross her cheeks,
hair light brown,
flowin' like waves.
That strut killed me.
Her blue met my brown,
What a damn fool I was.
My mind gone-
words nonexistent.
I managed to stand,
we shared a few silent moments,
endless.
Past a year has gone by,
with that beauty.
Such joy in my bones,
And I still think back.
That was the first time,
I saw her smile.
walkin’ down to the market.
Music was playing-
some Mexican kid was strumming.
An old Spanish song no one knew-
enchanting nonetheless.
I stumbled when she came,
around that corner,
like an angel had crashed.
The light stung my eyes.
The hell was wrong with me?
My legs stiffened up,
lungs left me gasping-
A fool I was.
She had freckles 'cross her cheeks,
hair light brown,
flowin' like waves.
That strut killed me.
Her blue met my brown,
What a damn fool I was.
My mind gone-
words nonexistent.
I managed to stand,
we shared a few silent moments,
endless.
Past a year has gone by,
with that beauty.
Such joy in my bones,
And I still think back.
That was the first time,
I saw her smile.
Published 20th Feb 2014
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20th Feb 2014 8:41am
20th Feb 2014 1:18pm
