The little glass Angel,
With a past made of stone.
Her wings held high,
With friends made of gold.
They can’t see the crack,
The little glass angel
Hides the pain with a smile
Yet begins to shatter,
From the inside out.
The angel can no longer fly,
For the stone holds her down.
Her wing is broken, she must be
Strong telling her friends she’s ok.
But when she arrives home,
The stone takes its toll.
The little glass angel,
Falls to the ground
And shatters into a million pieces.
The little glass angels name,
Is forever engraved within a
Smooth rock underneath the
Weeping willow tree.
