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Our Angels

by Megan Langley

The wind was blowing through his hair
And calling out his name.
I sat there without a care
And quietly played his game.
He would whisper softly to me
And I would listen back
To hear him say “My Dear Beauty”
Through the midnight black.
We talked of things long ago
When we were first in love.
That was probably only a year or so
Since he came to me from up above.
He is my angel and I am his,
For that is our destiny.
And when he sends me one sweet kiss,
I wish for more and many.

02/12/1999

Author's Note: haha, just came across this poem on an old disk... I wrote it back in 1999... so 10th grade...

Posted on 11/17/2004
Copyright © 2024 Megan Langley

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