While pieces of this season be shedding
All of my reason stopped loading
I met this drunk angel
He held a black in hand
Asked for a bunny to chow
My first edge was to not bow
My eyes held his to tend
And my mouth started running
My body posed away from his
Oh man he is too drunk to understand
I’m too nice, I handle
Slowly I face him
Wouldn’t rail up a drunk
Even if he is an angel
Sure he looks nothing like one
Swaying back and front in anger
Slurring his speech to the offender
My voice soothing to tender
Meanwhile my frame has already escaped the scene
Is he aware I too am a sinner?
Only subtler than others?
As he curses those who spit at him
Am I any different?
Because I only thought of it?
fearful to be an offender?
In guilt, I placate angel
I thought it too
The secret dangles
Still he curses them not I
Let it not be lost he curses!
What of his grip on the brown liquor?
We are of the same origin
He is just on the receiving end
He still sets me apart
Me in my warm cloak
And them the bad folk
“I’m told you’re Maria” he begins
I blush and amuse angel
He is that drunk I’m afraid
For the trail has only just begun
It seems I’m to address a choir
And bear the shepherd of flock
I object my angel
For I have had it.
I receive thanks and blessings
But I refuse roles and illusion.
All that’s good doesn’t have to be godly
But all that is godly is good.
I may not be Mary or her black twin Maria
But I am good and I do not fear.
But I am black and awfully merry
Perhaps that is what he meant.
Before I could consult
He has been swallowed by the cloud
I’m pretty sure, it was just the crowd😂