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😂