I’ve seen you hurt and I know your pain. Sorrow courses through your veins like an opiate and yet you are my sweet refrain. Someday you will take off your cheap polyester dress of corruption and put on a glittery incorruptible couture. You are so fragile, a bent sapling with bruised shoots grazing the earth trying to make it in a society of redwoods, oaks, and a few weeping willows. Your courage wraps around me like a shawl. You are my angel with broken wings and a tilted halo.