Double D sighed as he disconnected his phone from his wall. That had been the fifth time that hour Eddy had called him, trying to get an idea for his poem. Maybe now he could actually find an idea for himself.
Yes, that's right. Double D himself was having trouble with his homework! Now, if this was a math assignment, he could do it no problem. But this was poetry. Not exactly the most masculine thing in the world around Peach Creek.
But then Double D remembered that some of the most famous poets were, in fact, men. If they could do it, so could he! But first, he needed an angle.
As he dug around in his desk for more paper, Double D's eyes fell on something else in his bottom drawer. His old weapon from Halloween Town; the Death Rattle. Double D suddenly went back to his and his friends' trips to Halloween Town. He remembered how he had befriended the interesting residents of this intriguing town. The Mayor, Dr. Finkelstein, the Hanging Tree . . .
And then there was Sally.
Sally was one of Jack Skellington's closest friends. Like Double D, she thought Jack's plan to take over Christmas was going to equal bad news. When Jack and Eddy had been shot down, they had tried to fix the mess themselves, but ended up getting in trouble themselves. Luckily, Jack and Eddy saved the day just in time.
"Sally would love this assignment . . . " Double D thought.
Just then, an idea crept into his head. Maybe he could do this assignment. He picked up his pencil.
Stitches
A poem by Eddward
Stitches.
They run across her pale skin
Like threaded scars.
She lived in constant fear
That everything could go wrong.
Stitches.
One pull of them and she's torn apart.
Sometimes it's good,
Sometime's it's bad.
It's not her fault;
She was made that way.
Stitches.
They keep her together
And if they break off
All she does is fix them
Until they break again.
Stitches.
They make her body uneasy
And her tattered body
Reflects her clothes
And her fears
That her whole world
Could fall apart at her feet.
Stitches.
They're used to hold things together
But she's constantly
Pulling herself apart.
This helped her almost
Save someone.
Almost.
Stitches.
Although they did not help her succeed,
She still did her best,
And in the end,
It all worked out for her
And her dearest friends.
Stitches.
And through it all
There was one man
Who saw past these stitches,
These scars,
And saw her inner beauty
Was greater
Than anything she had
On the outside.
Stitches.
Maybe they're not as bad
As one would think.
Double D gazed admiringly at his work. He had no idea that he could express himself like that! And, somehow, he had been able to write about some subjects that he could never be able to just talk about in a conversation.
"Indeed . . . " he mumbled as he stared at the paper. "They're not as bad as one would think . . . "
