Oft I tend to ignore,
The angels among us,
For they tug at my conscience,
Right to the very core,
They pull me in nobler directions,
Out of my selfish self,
Until my heart turns loose compassion,
With few strings left,
There is no better explanation,
For what I have learned,
Angels are watching over me,
And they work hard for wings earned,
Angels that are grounded,
Will stay afoot I’ll bet,
For I am far from perfect,
My feeble ways are set,
My heart calls out to angels,
To fill its empty rooms,
But my vanity has grown big and bold,
Over my life it looms,
And angels that I’ve known so well,
Over years that quickly fly,
Wait at the corners of my life,
Helping me climb on by,
I might tell you once or often,
There are angels among us, tis true,
They come in many guises,
They’re there for me and you.
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