Our angels

when kisses went mad

Copenhagen (personal photo )

My angels were prisoners,
growing inside my fears.
they’ve got wings to fly,
but no power to rise.
they’ve got love to give,
memories and smiles.
and maybe one day, one day…
they’ll be free again.

Last night I’ve met your angels,
we’ve talked until sunrise,
drink some bottles of red wine,
from 1969.
unchained some untold stories,
hard goodbyes.
I think I’ll see them again,
until the end of our time.

©2020 Roxana-Elena Stefan. All Rights Reserved