We can think like angels
but the devil has said
'Take off your wings
come into my bed.'
We can act like angels
and refuse instead,
reject the pleasurable devil
and remain in our bed.
We can spread our wings
and soar with grace
or discard our wings
and in the mirror face
the eyes of betrayal,
the look of disgust,
the lure of the devil
and our sinful lust.
The weak will succumb
and lose their wings.
The faithful will become
and angel that sings.
Edwina Reizer's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (CHOICES by Edwina Reizer )
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