Angels
We could be angels,
we could be demons,
we could be shining,
oh we could be diamonds.
We could be living,
we could be dying,
were all just getting close to the sky or the ground.
The woods, are singing.
the trees are begging,
‘please stop cutting,
please stop making,
these factories,
that fill the sky with smoke’
The sky, is whistling,
the clouds are listening,
‘please stop making us choke,
we need, to, breathe.’
We could be angels,
we could be demons,
we could be shining,
oh we could be diamonds.
We could be living,
we could be dying,
were all just getting close to the sky or the ground.
The first words from your favorite book,
were, re-written and overlooked,
your favorite rhyme from your favorite line,
was out of key, and out of t-t-time.
