Our Better Angels
Written: July 26, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
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When anger swirls and trust cheats,
When hearts rupture and hope is heavy.
Our brave backs fight, and our loud teams meet.
With sounds that spin and a wonderful levy.
A reaper walks by the schoolyard gate,
Where apathy switched in the weight.
Neglect takes away everything neat,
If angels lack air, im deaden noisy street.
Not tracing bright lines, they walk in twilight,
But bask in bold acts that banish the night—
A hand that helps, a spirit so slight,
But wants honesty and does what's right.
Born under obligations, if wealth bleeds.
Florists must cope with the gnarly weeds.
They scatter lesser sympathy seeds,
And provide them with generous deeds.
In each enchanting echo of the moored,
In actions overlooked, obscured.
They sculpt rocks to form what should—
A wondrous world of whimsy, not just of could.
So when we bow below the boastful storm,
And wrath would well, a wild waveform.
These tender tutors, though not the norm,
Rekindle reminders that romance transforms.
One soul could shed that armored pride,
And wear peace pulsing deep inside.
Let humble hands reach children’s flame,
To rise beyond the hate and blame.
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