Angels do not come in the light of day
They do not visit the brightest of spots
Not with wings white feathers that glow
Not with blue eyes and golden silk
On the streets with hoods, ghettos
In the freight of corners and worry
In the cold hang where the homeless sleep
Angels do not come in the light of day
Clinically sanitised in church rooms
And decorated windows, altars with candles
Angels do not come with wings
All majestic and on the holiest of days
Where plants weather and lose their green
A beggars single shoe ever so cherished
Angels do not come on special occasions
They were named K9 and have always been here
