Part of an Angel / or The Boy and the Wino

He must have been right about ten,
His shirt was dirty and his shoes had holes,
And the sun was sinking low.

He been run out of the railroad yards,
So he figured he'd try the city park
Where most of the winos go.

He settled in the middle of a big wood fort,
The kids had all gone home;
And he watched the sky fade to black,
His world turned to monochrome.

He traded a bum a pocket knife
He'd found the night before.
In return he got half a bottle of wine,
And a story forevermore.

"Somewhere there is an angel, for every boy and girl.
They got silver wings and emerald eyes,
And their robes are trimmed in gold.
When you least expect it, and your luck is running low,
They come to you in blackest night,
And they touch your very soul.
If you look into their eyes, you see the face of God,
Your insides are filled with a white-hot flame
That can never die.
From that day on, you're not the same,
And life, it can't wound you,
'Cause you're a part of an angel, and she's a part of you."

The boy picked up a couple of butts,
And handed one to the man;
They lit 'em up and inhaled the warmth,
As the stars performed above.

A drunk who reeked of Mad Dog and urine,
Sat down next to the boy,
Said "Son, you know how to flub a dub?"
He said, "I reckon I don't want to know."

The boy thanked the first man for his tale,
And headed down the road;
It don't take long to learn when to move
When you got nowhere to go.

He walked by the light of the glowing moon,
Breathed deep the crisp night air;
His toes were cold in his tennis shoes,
But somehow he didn't care.

He looked up toward the heavens;
He thought of wings, and silver and gold,
High up in the air.

Somewhere there is an angel, for every boy and girl.
They got silver wings and emerald eyes,
And their robes are trimmed in gold.
When you least expect it, and your luck is running low,
They come to you in blackest night,
And they touch your very soul.
If you look into their eyes, you see the face of God,
Your insides are filled with a white-hot flame
That can never die.
From that day on, you're not the same,
And life, it can't wound you,
'Cause you're a part of an angel, and she's a part of you.

My first taste of your work and it is a wonderful read,..you are so blessed to have the ability to write and angels are always a good subject...thank you for sharing.