All
my life I’ve been shown ‘angels’
The Barbie and Ken kind,
With perfect skin.
They
all had brilliant blue eyes
And
long flowing blond hair.
But
recently I met my little angel.
He
wasn’t a Ken doll,
And
he definitely wasn’t a 25-year-old model,
He
was a 7 year old boy,
Not
with brilliant blue eyes,
But with sunken
sad brown eyes.
He
doesn’t have perfect skin either,
His skin is pale and sickly.
He
isn’t perfectly proportioned,
His head is a little big for his
body.
The
flowing blond hair isn’t there,
He doesn’t have any hair, he’s bald,
I don’t even know what color his hair was.
But
beside all these imperfections,
He
is my perfect little angel.
The
first time I met him he was in a bed.
And
now he gets a new bed.
This
bed is oak with brass,
And
for the first time he gets real satin sheets.
I’m
on my way to see him now.
The
last time I saw him was a few days ago.
He
was looking worse then usual.
He
held my hand and told me that I was his angel.
I
told him, no, he was mine.
That’s
when he got serious and told me:
“Soon
you will have to get a new angel.”
I
said there was no way that was going to happen,
He
was my angel and nothing would ever change that.
I’m
going to go see my angel now.
Lots
of other people are going to see him too.
Unlike
other angels my angel sleeps.
He’s
going to be sleeping when we get there.
We’re
all going to be there to say good-bye.
My
Little Angle died.
My
little angel is always going to be with me.
All
the other angels tell us “Have no fear.”
But
my little angel had no fear.
As
far as I’m concerned God sent me an angel to remind me that we’re not alone.