Author's Note: One day in English class, we had a substitute, and we were assigned to write a poem that included refrain, metaphor, personification, simile, and imagery in my teacher's absence. I had Stephanie Brown on my mind since I had finished reading her run as Batgirl as of recent, so this poem was born. I admit now, that I am far from a decent poet, but hey, I figured I might as well share this for any and all fellow Steph-fans.
It's so fitting that my first Batfic is about Steph. I have a deep love for this girl. She was one of the first comic characters that I really liked and related to and read about in general. I'm really happy that I now have my own collection of her run as Batgirl in trade-form, and also very upset that she no longer holds the title. Regardless, I love Babs. But Steph was still shafted in the reboot. Shafted, I tell you, shafted.
Enjoy! I understand if you wouldn't want to review, but if you feel the need and do so, you're a lovely person.
Disclaimer: I do not own the character Stephanie Brown, or any others associated with her. She is the mishandled property of DC Comics.
…
The early morning sky is an eerie shade of red
Only several stars from the night before dimly glow
Swirling amongst silver clouds overhead
Skyscrapers kiss the horizon glazed with feathery snow
The streets below are ghostly and bare
Bathed in pale fluorescent light
Their only company faded newspapers blowing everywhere
For the shady city it's another lonely night
It is in this god-forsaken place
That people like her dwell
Occupying rooftops amongst other kinds of space
Serving to help make all things well
She perches atop a stony gargoyle
Its open mouth silently screeches to the night
Waiting for a plan to foil
She ponders when the time will be right
At the sound of a scream, she jumps, willing to go
Leaping from her roost in the sky
She prepares herself to face an evil foe
Wondering what they've done and why
Falling
She tumbles through the air
Falling
As wind blows through her bright blonde hair
Falling
Which she has done before
Falling
From the days she was a small bird; a Robin, now, and evermore.
Falling
Building momentum as she goes
Falling
She'll need to catch herself soon, she knows
And she does, with a zip of her tool
She lands clumsily atop slick gray concrete
Her flushed cheeks tickled by crisp winter air; brisk and cool
She searches for her enemy, ready to meet
They eventually do, and begin to fight
Black, eggplant-clad, and bright-eyed
She battles for what is right
And comes out on top, victory for her assailant denied
She helps the victim onto their feet with a toothy grin
And takes off with a charismatic wink
Elated by this triumphant win
Her laughter fades into a sunrise of red, yellow, orange and pink
Though seemingly hope has died in this gothic kingdom
She will wait in darkness in the pitch of night
To stop crime that threatens to come
And bring its inhabitants a new glimmer of light