Deaf

Okay, um, I wrote this poem. I did. But it might sound like other poems. I don't know, really. I haven't been keeping up with the Animorphs poems…so I might have accidentally written the same type and concept as someone else. If I did, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Honest. K? And Animorphs belongs to K.A. This poem belongs to me. And…that's all…

Deaf

She sits upon the old, worn couch,

Staring blankly out the window.

She wears a black dress and silver brooch,

Her face is pale and withered.

Her lips are drawn tightly together,

Her eyes are hidden with tears,

As she realizes he is gone forever,

He left her with undying fears.

Unable to cry, unable to not,

She sits and stares,

Remembers the battles she fought.

Her heart screams, "It's not fair!"

Her brain screams, "It's not right!"

But she herself knows it is.

For she gave up her fight,

As soon as he left his.

Dreaming of battles and great foes,

Her face is a mask of pain.

She of all people knows,

What is real, what is vain.

Fear, anger, hatred, grief,

All bundled inside her soul,

But in her hand the defiance she holds,

Not letting them loose, acting bold.

"Why?" she asks, voice hoarse.

She stands and knocks a pillow down.

Her eyes are now strong with a hidden force,

searching something not quite found.

Her whole world spins around.

She feels weak and frail.

Her face is ghostly pale.

She whispers, "Where is he?"

Hearing no answer, she falls.

"How could he leave me?"

She covers her face and bawls.

So masked with pain and devastation,

She doesn't hear the voice she knew,

That answered in consolation,

"I'm right here, in you."