My Angel

My angel
Doesn't have wings
Or a halo.
My angel
Doesn't wear the white robe
Or sing in the angelic choir.
My angel
Doesn't have sprinklings of glitter all over
Or soft and silky golden hair.
But that's okay.
Because my angel
Has a style all her own.
My angel
Is sassy and smart.
She knows she's gorgeous,
So who cares if anyone else thinks she is?
My angel
Wears Converse sneakers
Carries a sidebag
And speaks her mind.
My angel
May not fit in with everyone
But she knows the ones who love her
Aren't going anywhere.
My angel
Has a biting sense of payback
And if you get on her bad side,
She only briefly hesitates before striking
My angel
May be a little close-minded
But she knows it
And tries to correct it.
My angel
Isn't perfect.
She doesn't conform to what society
Thinks she should be.
My angel
Is the girl with the black hair
With the tired eyes
And the sometimes painted smile.
My angel
Is way more amazing
Than she gives herself credit for
And sometimes I'm envious of her.
My angel
Doesn't have the wings, the halo, the robe, or the glitter
But she doesn't need them.
Because my angel
Faces the world with attitude instead of innocence
Power instead of vulnerability
And my angel
Knows me inside and out
Knows how much I love her.
My angel
Is worth a thousand of those robed clones
And I wouldn't trade her
Or change her
For anything.

This was written about one of my best friends, who's name happens to be Angel.

Copyright 2008 by Skye Sieglaff