Fake Angels Poem by Trey Mitchell

Fake Angels



I hold on my dream
In the dead of night
The angel wings aren't what they seem

The brilliant light makes me scream
But, black is all that is in sight
I hold on, my dream

The pale skin, the color of cream
Open, the sky and light
The angel wings aren't what they seem

And now this blood does deam
I won't give up the fight
I hold on, my dream

You and me is this battle's theme
In those eyes, ever bright
The angel wings aren't what they seem

And in the light the blood does gleam
With you I'll never run in fright
I hold on, my dream
The angel wings aren't what they seem

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Trey Mitchell

Trey Mitchell

Wisconsin Rapids, WI
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