Last night I had a dream;
It had a tale to tell.

I dreamed I saw an angel;
Poor thing, he wasn't feeling well.

His body bruised and battered
His wings were ripped and torn -

This angel could hardly walk,
He looked so tired and worn.

I walked right up to him to ask;
"Angel? How can this be?"

He turned around and paused a bit,
Then he spoke these words to me:

"I'm your Guardian Angel,
A great task as you can see.

You've run amok most all your life:
Look what it's done to me.

These bruises are from shielding you
In times both dire and ill.

Those alcoholic bouts and drugs you've used
I've often paid the bill

You see my wings are ripped and torn;
A noble badge I wear;

How often they have flown you
From evils unaware.

Each mark is it's own story
Of deadly wounds destroyed.,

You made me wish - more than once -
That I was unemployed.

If only you could make it
Standing on your own;

Oh, don't you fret or worry -
But please try to remember -
I'm getting old and frail."

I could not believe all I had heard,
Let alone how much he cared.

I wept upon his shoulder,
Then left him in despair.

The next day I sat and pondered:
Should I really try?

And in the distance I thought I heard;
A frail old angel cry.

I don't know who the author of this poem is; if you know, please email me at goddessfallenangel@hotmail.com to tell me; I'd really like to credit him/her. This was sent to me via email September 17, 1998, and from the moment I read it, it made me think. Actually stop and think. Which for me is a big change. I'm not saying that this little poem changed my life, or anything drastic; but it made me think about reavaluating my priorities in life instead of barreling headfirst through it. And this from someone who is NOT religious. *s* But please, pass this little gem on; it's worth it.