Angels

An angel clothed in a pearly white dress
Detailed with apricot blooms,
Her beauty is undeniable
And is as fragile as a glass slipper.

Once betrayed her kindness vanishes like steam,
The white dress starts to decay
Revealing the cold-hearted,
broken person underneath.

All angels are not what they seem,
They have picked themselves up
From being broken again and again.

(Low-key forgot I wrote this one. Also I wrote this for a non-rhyming school poetry assignment in 8th grade.)