A/N- This poem came to me quite randomly, when I was upset with what a girl in my dance class was saying about me. Its a really changing poem, and I'm extremely proud of it. Thanks for choosing to read it. Please review and tell me what you think.
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Punched in the gut,
kicked in the head,
falling to the floor,
wishing he was dead.
The quiet little brother,
a tear in his eye,
but the one on the ground,
is the boy who won't cry.
He needs to stay strong,
they need to stay free,
to get their bodies back,
thats what they need to be.
One tall and big,
the other short and small,
they've been through so much,
they've been through it all.
Their father had left,
their mother was dead,
they burned down their house,
they were left with no bed.
Anger in golden eyes,
caring in red,
"I'll get it back for you,"
the older brother said.
It ended with a blade,
blood all around,
a stroking hand on the older brother's face,
the younger knew life could be found.
He clapped his hands together,
the Stone it was used,
and he brought back his brother,
their souls unfused.
The elder gave his life,
for the younger at first,
because he cared so much,
and expected the worst.
And it was then in the Gate,
with glistening eyes,
that tears fell down,
and the boy started to cry.
End.