How often those that help us aren't the ones
That we've been praying to - but other gods and angels
Who hear our prayers in reruns
And, out of curiosity or anger
Or love
Come from above
To Earth moonlit and glowing
To give us what, without really knowing,
We asked them for;
In their bliss divine,
They play with our words
Until they shine
Like bright and hot - alas, remote - suns.
How often those that help us aren't the ones.
About the Creator
Vadim Kagan
I believe that each day is a blessing, every story is amazing and all poems should rhyme!
Instagram: @wines_and_rhymes
Facebook: www.facebook.com/vadimkagan
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Comments (1)
I’m glad to have found your work on Vocal.