Angels and Ogres
angels and ogres jostle at our shoulders
I might say when I met you I had my good angel nestled
on my shoulder. From then where did it all go wrong?
I became the ogre sticking out his fiery tongue at you.
Too much said, so much that could not be undone.
What happened to those people that we were?
It seems they melted away in the morning mist.
Little favors missed, promises unkept,
beds unmade, the ogres rampaged
carrying firebrands, disrupting the night,
too much blame for us both to accept.
But I could still make you laugh: a naughty
angel carried a torch for our lost love.
Christopher T. George