In the sea of desks there is talk of love and heartbreak,
and long pipes that leak dreams with the strike of a match.
     There is a loudness to the whispers I hear, 
whispers shouldn’t be that loud should they?
But in the middle of the chaos and the madness,
there is an angel.
The breeze whispers, about the cries of young teenagers lost in the wind
the smoke from their mouths still rising.
But in the midst of the wind,
there is an angel.
The whispers in the halls, are loud and vibrant.
Telling stories that one could dream of hearing.
But in the midst of the chatter,
there is an angel.
In the midst of it all, there is an angel.
She breathes, though none can see her breath.
She laughs, though none notice the loud squeal.
She smiles, yet none can see her teeth.
She is intelligent, yet none can see her brightness.
She shines, yet none can see her glow.
And she loves, yet that is the angel’s secret.