Jumba
Across the room he sits
The sofa straining against his weight
Powerful but gentle
He pretends he doesn't care
Softer than he seems, his heart aches
But for whom no one can tell.
An admirer blinks his one eye sadly
Knowing it may never be
Hoping that it can
Thinking that it won't
Dreaming that it will.
He surrounds himself with 'children'
Hundreds of substitutes for the one thing he wants most
Evil children that cannot fill the void
Though they try so hard.
In exile they live together, a broken family.
That's all he wants.
His family.
Placing on his lab coat, he starts to make a new addition.
A genetically engineered substitute
For the energy that cannot be replaced.
He longs to be loved.