<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511523" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Squalor & Chips</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My angel of the night <br>came down the stairs of morning<br>his hair, brown locks of greasiness, <br>his mouth, those sweet lips, yawning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He stopped three steps from earth that day<br>and gazed at trainers in his way<br>and then as I began to pray, <br>stepped over and ignored them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He took four steps across the room<br>he missed the cloth, the pan, the broom <br>and squashed cold chips, bare footed<br>upon the kitchen flooring! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas my fallen angel there, <br>sat his bottom on a chair<br>and sweeping hand through tousled hair, <br>ate his breakfast without care.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Without thought for chips all squashed, <br>flattened on that kitchen floor. <br>A floor so needy for a wash<br>as I exclaimed, &quot;Oh my dear God! &quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I found the mop, the bucket too<br>I cleaned the floor, mopped up the goo<br>and then I had a notion to, <br>but my angel wouldn't let me through.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Squashed chips on the kitchen floor<br>last nights washing up, <br>sticky table, dustbins full<br>and an empty coffee cup.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ruth+Walters">Ruth Walters</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511523" data-title="Squalor & Chips de Ruth Walters" data-description="My angel of the night came down the stairs of morning his hair, brown locks of greasiness, his mouth, those sweet lips, yawning. He stopped three steps from earth that day and gazed at trainers in his way and then as I began to pray, stepped o..."></div> </div> </div>

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