Fallen Angel's With Broken Wings...

She’s the picture of a blemished reality
Estranged from her twisted, bizarre kind of family
In her destitute form of solitude and isolation
Dauntless and bound by an incorrigible infatuation
She utilises her situation as she best knows how
Her way of surpassing reality, her here and her now
She continues to work for and feed her addiction
How she escapes from her past of family abuse and friction
From that formidable home that is the streets
She starves and aches on end and for weeks
Like a withered rose, her existence fades to nothings
But a fallen angel with broken wings.

She’s the essence of sexual attraction
With faded childhood memories of but a fraction
The scent of he who touched her through out the night
The reason for her promiscuity being seemingly all right
She knows no better, no other and no less
Makes a profitable living trading money for sex
Her hair becomes weak, skin and bone so desolate
She cares none for her health, with no protection met her fate
Her lifestyle inevitable, the cost that her life fades
A life of prostitution taken from her by Aids
Lack of realisation of what her reality brings
But a fallen angel with broken wings.

She is the female definition of narcissism
No patience or time for any sort of criticism
Running the streets like another one of those criminal thugs
Making investments and doing deals of slanging drugs
For her the entire picture is never to be seen
Zero visibility of what’s going on behind the scenes
People scheming for her murderous death
Comrades planning her execution and her last breath
You live by the gun and you’ll die by the gun too
Her anthem to the streets that was all she knew
As they mount her grave that same comrade stands and sings
But a fallen angel with broken wings.

She’s a conglomerate bundle of insanity
A mind free from nothing an lack of simplicity
Constant voices calling and echoing admonition
Distorting her views of reality and her recognition
Bound in this world with no chance of escape
In a deserted land consumed with confusion and hate
Hatred for the inability to understand
To call out for assistance or a helping hand
The hate succeeds and empowers her over
She just block her ears and runs further for cover
Finding herself upon a distant ledge
The voices in her hands at her life’s edge
And for that split second mid air she’s free from all those things
But a fallen angel with broken wings.

Please comment and vote - this piece is very special to me :o) thanks for reading...xoox