Rescuing Me Poem by Scott Barrymore
Rescuing Me
Of you I always think,
When the skies are red and turning pink.
A passing moment of wondrous light.
The strength and passion of feminine might.
You flow through life.
As if you were free,
Of all that binds humanity.
A cherub, an angel,
That's what you must be.
Sent here on a mission,
To rescue me.
Tuesday, November 17, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: angels
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5/19/2024 9:20:39 PM # 1.0.0.1119
