A/N: So this is a project I had to do for LA a while back. It's a found poem I did for Les Mis, about Gavroche's death. A found poem is a poem created by meshing words, phrases, and sentenced together from different songs, books, poems, etc. I use Marchin' On by OneRepublic and Long Live by Taylor Swift. The format here is kinda messed up, the bold text was supposed to be left justified. Sorry. =/ But there are three speakers here: the normal [i.e. "This is normal text"] is the passage itself, basically narrating the scene; the italics [i.e. "This is italicized text"] is kind of a "we'll hold our heads up" type thing, like background music or something, and is Marchin' On; the bold [i.e. "This is bold text"] is kind of Gavroche speaking, and is Long Live. I tried not to alter anything too much, except for one line near the end, "But bullets fall to the ground" was actually "Confetti falls to the ground". And the repeated use of "Someday-" at the end also wasn't in the song. I hope you enjoy Gavroche's legacy. :)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Les Miserables, Long Live, or Marchin' On. Those are owned by Victor Hugo, Taylor Swift, and OneRepublic respectively. However, I do wish Gavroche was mine. I wuv him. :'(
EDIT: Only back to edit a couple things. There was a lot messed up with this in the initial upload. O.o
Gavroche's Legacy
He took his basket from the wine-shop
And quietly slipped out the entrance of the barricade.
He slid, as a shadow, a wraith, from soldier to soldier,
Emptying their cartridge boxes into his basket
You held your head like a hero
On a history book page.
You traded your baseball cap
For a crown.
And the cynics were outraged,
'Cause for a moment
A band of thieves in ripped up jeans
Got to rule the world.
There's so many wars we've fought,
So many things we're not.
But with what we have,
I promise you that
We're marchin' on,
We're marchin' on.
With a bound, he sprang into the street.
Under the foggy veil of smoke,
He advanced, until he reached the end
Of the fog, and crouched to do his work.
And a ball struck the body
As he relieved a sergeant
Of his cartridges.
And he said, "The deuce!
They are killing my dead
For me!"
For all of the plans we've made,
There isn't a flag I'd wave.
Don't care if we bend,
I'd sink us to swim.
We're marchin' on,
We're marchin' on
Will you take a moment,
Promise me you'll stand by me
Forever.
But if God should step in and
Force us into a goodbye,
Breathless with anxiety,
The insurgents watched
And followed the child with their eyes,
Burning this moment into their minds.
If you have children someday,
Tell them my name.
Tell them how—
—For those nights when I couldn't be there
I've made it harder to know that you know
We'll keep moving on.
Fired at, he mocked the firing.
They aimed incessantly, but always missed.
And he seemed very much amused.
Hold on to spinning around.
But we'll have the days we break
And we'll have the scars to prove it.
May these memories break
Our fall.
For all of the times we've stopped,
For all of the things I'm not,
He lay down,
Hold on to spinning around.
Rose up,
Hid in a
Doorway,
But bullets fall to the ground.
Sprang out,
Disappeared,
For all of the times we've stopped
For all of the things I'm not
Reappeared,
Made wry faces
At the volleys,
May these memories break
Our fall
And pillaged
Cartridge boxes
All the while.
We put one foot in front of the other.
We move like we ain't got no other.
We go when we go.
We're marchin' on.
Right, right, right,
Right left
Right, right, right,
Right left
Right, right, right,
We're marchin' on.
It was not a child;
It was not a man;
It was a fairy gamin
That sang as it pranced
Back towards the barricade.
Long live
All the walls we crashed through.
And all the lights shined…
For this dance, we'll move with each other.
Long live the mountains we moved
I had the time of my life…
There ain't no step but one foot,
In front of the other.
Singing "Long live!"
And bring on all the pretenders!
The invulnerable dwarf of the melee,
The bullets ran after him
But he was more nimble than they.
Surefooted, he swerved back and forth,
Avoiding the bullets for just a second longer—
For a moment,
We were kings and queens.
A second longer—
We held up our trophy
For our town.
A second longer—
But one bullet, better aimed
Or perhaps more treacherous,
Reached the Will-o'-the-wisp child
And pierced his fragile body.
They saw him totter,
A look of shock on his small face,
And then he fell.
There's so many wars we've fought,
So many things we're not.
And bring on all the pretenders.
Someday—
But with what we have,
I promise you that,
Someday—
We're marchin' on
Someday—
We're marchin' on.
We will be remembered.
