I found an angel in my back pocket
when I was really looking for pennies
to make up the .4 cents needed to pay for my ticket to heaven
The guy on 42nd street said it was a ‘one way’
and I needed to get the hell out of here
She looked like a fairy,
but she didn’t sprinkle pixie dust
and when she opened her eyes I saw light
made up of future events, but I could not smile over them
As I brought her closer to my face,
she kissed my lips and spread her wings
When she flew away
she laughed at me;
even an angel laughed at my pathetic ‘being’
--Butta Love, the provocative verbalist
