An Angel

There she was,standing in the dark mist,
Cold, she knew it was,but could do nothing.
I could see her delicate hands
waving in the air, noises all around.

Lighted as she was, in that dress,
reminded me of a 'daddy's lil girl',
that shimmer of her face, the grace,
that contained her.

People abhorred her, the reason unknown.
they chaffed her, she gave nothing.
it was known, she wasn't waiting,
for someone who'd come in a tuxedo,
but someone who needed her.

Her eyes had the twinkle, purity,
the elegance of a young girl,
a quintessence of beauty,
but she was lovelorn, a lovelorn pearl.

Her messiah was missing,
she was rueful, still unabashed.
her wait soon ended,
he came and took her.

They looked scandalised, like scarecrows,
she looked scrappy to them,
and they didn't care,
Cause she was no Madonna,
though lured her themselves, lurked for her.

Next day, she's waiting again,
for the epistle of love, getting enthralled,
with a gleeful face, halo over her head,
but her heart sore.
I call her an Angel, they call her a Whore.