…Torn…
His heart is
Torn
Into two
One for home
Where he was born
And played, and lived
And laughed with friends
Into the cat
That he is now
One for kits
That they will take
And raise, and cherish
And watch with joy
Without him by
Their side.
His heart is
Torn
Into bits
Pieces for the
One he loves
And needs, and wants
And memorized
Into his every
Dream and wish
Pieces for the
Choice he makes
And hates, and knows
And wants to change
To fit all that
He knows can't be.
His heart is
Torn
And ravaged deep
And so he turns
And walks away.
A/N: Also for Wilder123.
You know, after writing this poem, I have realized how Graystripe and Brook are really alike. They both had to choose between home and loved ones. And both of them chose home, although Brook technically got both.