One night I had a dream. It left a tale to tell, I dreamed I saw an angel, poor thing was not so well. His body was bruised and battered. His wings were ripped and torn. I saw that he could barely walk. He was so tired and worn. I walked right up and asked him, "Angel how could this be?"
He turned to me and paused a bit. Then these words he spoke to me.'"I am your guardian angel, a mighty task as you can see. You've run a muck all your life, and this is what it has done to me. These bruises are from shielding you in times of dire ill. These drugs you've used so dangerously I have often paid the bill. My wings you say are ripped torn, a noble badge to bear.
So many times they have shielded you from dangers unaware.
Every mark carries a story of wickedness destroyed. You've made me wish more then once, that I was unemployed. If you can't make it on your own, please don't fret or worry, for I will always be there. Keeping watch over you until my powers fail, keep in mind my child I'm old and frail."' I could hardly believe what I had seen let alone how much he cared. I wept upon his shoulder and left him in despair.
In the morning when I looked into my spoon, I pondered why I should even try. Then in that very instant I thought I heard a frail old angel cry.