Tuesday, July 06, 2004

The Angels of Los Angeles

The Angels of Los Angeles are dying
They are becoming blank-eyed and tired of life
On the streets and in the tracts and mansions throughout this place we call home
The youth are getting bored.
Prepackaged everything at hand no need for each other anymore
Leaves them detached from life in an unhealthy way
They look for trouble to pass the time which seems oddly to repeat itself
Day after languid dismaying day
Same lessons same buildings same roads same people
And when nothing seems to change and gossip is the most interesting of news they rebel
And the old white men shake their heads and wonder why so many nasty things go on.
The middle aged and boxed-in rush to make it seem as if they had much to do
Traffic gets worse because they always drive as if they’re late for the last train to Paradise
Gone are the days of open roads and wind flooding through sea-foam green convertibles
Gone is the knowledge that Paradise will wait.
But there are yet some with the fire in their eyes
There is a boy now on the street with that blaze in baby blues
A smile plays on his lips and his skin glows with hopes and dreams and aspirations
He walks along, one strolling in a hurried world
Watching from the middle of it all and soaking it in and making decisions for his future
He will live at his own pace instead of losing the simple beauties that nothing can destroy
The ballet of cars on the highway and the faces of the poets in the clouds and the way the pretty girl with freckles blushes down her neck when someone whistles at her.
He will not forget the simple truths that so many have let slip away
How smiles are contagious and love is wide-eyed and children are the most honest of all
And he has a sudden secret smile that no one seems to understand
For he knows that in every moment something gorgeous is about to happen
And when he’s lived a life of dreams without losing the simple things
We will rejoice
For one more Angel will be saved.


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