Their Lost Angels

Watching this colourful stream of lives passing by children without a care ? Moving Along as making my way to the library aneath mid-morning's shade; her breezeway Splashed another poetic palette; trying to avoid these clichés stepping past time's Passage, into the sunlight where their beauty awaits of dreams ? Our theme today.. Glimpsing up at her street sign, Los Angeles, while taking a drag from my cigarette Swept unto distant thoughts as taken far away ? Beyound the barriers which dictate These secular views and temporal designs impeded their faithless void of sight ? Go West my child His ancients voice; imagination shall soar atop wings you'll find, Angels.