Angels

Angels


He huddles down in doorways where everyone can see
but no one ever does. He's just part of the debris
like plastic bags and old news print, carried by the wind.
Though hope has died, he still has pride which time cannot rescind.

Across the street a flag waves, its colors shining bright.
It overlooks decaying dreams among the urban blight.
He still recalls America, once a community,
now marked by fear and, year by year, growing anxiety.

He once stood proud in service, defending this great land
until he couldn't cope with things he could not understand
like how do you encourage peace and then are asked to kill?
Without care, they sent him home; their answer was a pill.

They left him to his own devices, wandering the street.
The memories of what he'd seen, he could not defeat.
Depressed, alone, he gave in to thoughts of suicide
until an angel found him and would not leave his side.

Greying at its muzzle, it limped from long neglect
and yet the old dog's caring seemed to instantly connect.
He knew he'd found a kindred soul; one who would understand
and help him fight the demons and the high price they demand.

They found that each was needed and, with that, they had worth
beyond the shallow accounting now valued on this earth.
They rediscovered meaning, like love and loyalty,
and with each day together, there's a new discovery.

They still are found in doorways, but they're no longer alone.
A ray of hope has taken root and with each day, it's grown.
Wrapped up close together, safe in each other's arms,
they face the coming days without worries or alarms.

Angels can be found in every shape and size.
It takes a heart that's open to finally realize
that angels are around us. Don't let their form confuse.
You can't predict just how or what the hand of God will choose.


An entry for Whispers of the Soul
Prompt: Image
Line Limit: None
Line Count: 32