Frail old angel

If I had to do it over again,
I wouldn't change what I did.
I would change the way
I felt about what I did.
Last night I had a dream
It had a tale to tell.
I dreamed I saw an angel;
Poor thing he wasn't feeling well.
His body bruised and battered
His wings were ripped and torn
This angel could hardly walk,
He looked so tired and worn.
I walked right up to him to ask;
Angel? How can this be?
He turned around and paused a bit,
Then he spoke these words to me:
"I'm your Guardian Angel,
A great task as you can see.
You've run amok most of your life:
Look what it has done to me.
These bruises are from shielding you
In times both dire and ill.
All the drugs you've used
I've often paid the bill
You see my wings are ripped and torn;
How often they have flown you
From evils unaware.
Each mark is it's own story
Of deadly wounds destroyed.
You made me wish
more than once
That I was unemployed.
If only you could make it
Standing on your own;
Oh, don't you fret or worry
But please try to remember
I'm getting old and frail".
I could not believe all I had heard,
Let alone how much he cared.
I wept upon his shoulder,
Then left him in despair.
The next day I sat and wondered;
Should I really try?
And in a distance I thought I heard:
A frail old angel cry.
Author Unknown