She drops to her knees
And nobody sees
Unless there’s a God
In the heavenlies
She whispers a prayer
Kind sir, are you there?
Please help me, please, please!
Words hang in the air
Hope turns to despair
A deepening yawn
The blank cosmic stare
She won’t be alive
Tomorrow at five
Pain too much to bear
Unemployed squatter
Sheep to the slaughter
Pregnant, homeless, a
Prodigal daughter
Bleating in the night
Anxious, full of fright
Won’t someone spot her?
A man passing by
He heard her soft cry
Stooped to her level
He raised her head high
Follow Me, he said
You’re no longer dead
Apple of My eye
____________
Andrew Dabar
Andrew Dabar 
Lovely poem, well constructed, but sometimes, a woman has to save herself. Most times, no white knight comes along to whisk her off to a better life. My best friend for many years had a bad habit of falling for women he thought needed rescuing. I told him her had a white-knight complex.
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Thank you. The picture at the top of the post is what inspired me to write this poem.
I was trying to describe the actual answer to her prayer. A veiled Christ who says Follow Me and calls her the apple of his eye (a biblical term).
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Now that you explain it, I clearly see where you were coming from with the story. My only excuse is I do’t think about divine intervention because I don’t believe in it—at least for me.
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