A/N: Give it a shot. I know its a poem but please its not that bad!
This was inspired by a wonderful artist that i follow on tumblr: chyldea tumblr com/ post/ 9257911049/ i-was-planning-on-drawing-something-totally and! chyldea tumblr com/ post/ 9261002009/ follow-up-to-the-previous-sketch-ok-ok-enough-of
Hope you guys enjoy!
Dick is about 12, Jay 7, Tim 4, Damian 1
PS: I OWN NOTHING BUT THE POEM. IDEA AND DC IS NOT MINE
SURVIVE
Their father? Gone without a trace.
Their mother? Non-existent.
A story of riches to rags. Where brothers Wayne
Were left alone. A kingdom fallen by the
Disappearance of its king.
Where stone hearted men took
What is rightfully theirs. The inheritance,
The manor, the company. Gone.
All they have left are the clothes on their back,
and the hope that someone would take them in for the night.
The eldest before was brighter than the sun,
Left to take care his younger brothers.
His smile eclipsed by grief and sadness.
The second, loving and tender as can be.
His heart filled with rage and anger, love only to seek revenge.
The third was intelligent and cunning.
His face now devoid of emotion.
The youngest, probably the most blessed of all.
Ignorant of the pain swaddled in cloth.
The city was just as cruel. Her towers were no shelter,
her skies no shade of blue.
As for miles they walked, knocked on doors too see
If anyone was hospitable enough
For four to shelter and too feed.
For every door a slam, for every slam an ignorant man.
"It's about to rain," said third. "and we have nowhere to go."
And by his word, true. heavy drops wept from the sky.
The eldest clutched the youngest as he shivered away.
"Here," handed the second pieces of newspaper
"we can use this."
Their bodies huddled together into a lump that looked like trash.
The baby began to weep as the cold and wet gone through.
As each of them began to cry, to each other they held onto.
"We'll get through this. We'll survive."
The eldest wished that he was telling to lie.