My Angels

when i am low
bottom of the trough
dirt in my lungs
rotting
like neglected fruit

when i am so low
only earthworms and anglers
greet me in the morning
that never really comes anyway
for i sleep through it
because the cold and the pain
rarely permeate my profuse dreaming
so low a smiles a burden

when i am that low
angels come to me
without warning
and wake me
lighting my heart
and lifting me up

they never say or do much
or present themselves as such
they leave as abruptly as they appear
they are discreet
and i have yet to encounter one
wearing white

but they sure do fucking shine!
and it's aways undeniable
that i've been touched,
looked after,
by the renewed hope in my heart
and the tears
washing the dirt from my face

my angels
are cab drivers
of all ethnicities
overflowing with wisdom
and drifters crippled
bearing honesty and kindness
in it's PUREST
my angels are quick and beautiful
and when i am low
they change my life
every time