My Angel

It was the last thing my grandma gave me.
I came to own this object,
When I was six years old.

I have owned this object for six years now,
I keep this object on my bedside table,
So that my grandma can look over me.

If I lost my angel,
I would feel like I had lost part of my grandmother.
If I dropped my angel,
It would sound like Crash or Smash.

Her wings are gold, and as sparkly as diamonds.
Her skirt is as thin as paper and is falling apart.
Her hair is thick and curly.

My angel has only changed in only a couple of ways,
She is dusty and her skirt is falling apart,
As she is very old.