Los Angeles

Where among the devils
Would such a benign creature
Like me blend in?

Nowhere.

I curse these angel wings
Day by day for the woe
They drag along,
For setting me apart
From the scoundrels
In the den of thieves
That singsong their accusations
Like serenades with temptations,

Take your eyes off the lights of the city,
Take your eyes off the lights of the city,
For they are devils,
And you are not the devil’s daughter,
However it may seem.

But,
The city breathes,
The city speaks,
The city calls my name
Much, much louder.

And ‘twas only after
Many dreadful years of misadventure
That I found myself at the foot
Of the city of the angels
With bliss slowly festering in my soul.

I was one of them,
And they knew it.

But alas,
I had not been raised for the city,
And the city had not been born for me,
And it soon became apparent
That heaven was too crowded
For me to love.

I was just an angel
That didn’t act like an angel,
Wandering the world
With no home to speak of.

Author's Note

Rusty, rusty, rusty...

Reviews

[stars are far]

That was very well written poem. keep that coming

[Tai Ryens]

Thank you, stars!

[Emily]

Nice idea for a poem!
Well done!

[Tai Ryens]

Thank you!

[Baby Ricochet]

I don't think it's that rusty. I still get Tai in this. At least you're back on here writing something. I like the bit about bliss slowly festering in your soul. That's a real Tai line. You know the drill. You gotta write to get out of writers block. Even if it feels like you're pushing a bus up a cliff, you just gotta write.

[Tai Ryens]

Thank you, Baby Ricochet, your review mean the world. Writer's block truly is one of the most difficult things to face, but I'm trying. Thanks for stopping by.