I opened my doors and stepped out to the busy city street-side. It's evening, said the angry sky. It's winter, said the shivering induced. But people chases time. I blended in to the stream of rush. As I walked, I heard that:
An Angelic Whisper.

"
People say they care
But none would dare
To spare that fair.

When you are alone in dark
Or tete-a-tete with a shark;
When u r sandwiched between cars;
Or trapped behind bars
None comes to your rescue.
U are left without any clue.

Facts of matter...
Let they shatter...
"

Oh..., that was it. Too short.
But dense. I don't care the core of the whisper. But who made that whisper? Did only I hear it? Or many others too? None seemed bothered of the whisper.... Idk...

May that Angel read this chapter...

Edited by
@EdwinJohnA

Not my poem. But my.... :-) ;-)