MORNING ANGEL

She rose from the darkness alone and cold,

not knowing when her life would unfold.

She prayed day and night.

Laughed, rather than cry; as the street is her address

and a cardboard box, her home.

The smaller the box the more heat  she will gain.

 

She tried their shelter, they turned her away

she tried again and again, the same everyday.

You’d think they have shelter for the forlorn.

but no way in hell, would that lady conform.

 

Yes, I said lady, not of the night.

lady of  the morn, get it? That’s right.

 

Was it her face that appalled them

or the stench of her clothes?

She had no way of knowing.

Nobody told.