A girl who had lost hope for humanity,
a boy who lost everything he loved.. |
Frozen Eyes An innocently scarred girl Stole off into the night A sweater covering fresh wounds Thread bare gloves for comfort More then reprive from harsh winds A mind of hard pressed determination A face which hid her thoughts A heartbroken soul who Had finally had enough Of the captor's damned abuse. Winter ravaged all around Exploring her nakedness with Curious, frozen fingers.. Yet she pushed on, hatred And fear putting light to her feet And warming her senses And that was enough for now. She left with but a sentence: Don't cry over me. A boy who had lost all hope Dissapeared into the night He wore little, but cared as much Faded blue jeans Worn out tennis shoes And a holed up flannel jacket Over a grey t-shirt. The wind chill was below zero Yet the lost boy felt nothing Eyes of porcelin Far numbed emotions And a heart of stone He had lost too much to care Lost everything he cared to love That last emotion fled from him With a final death. He left his fate to chance Alone in the icy storm Nothing in particular Good as suicide, a death He simply deemed poetic- Whether the earth Or himself was colder. He had blown his mother a kiss - his elderly foster mother - Yet a mother at that, Trying to force tears He whispered: Don't cry over me. The young couple crossed pathes At the edge of forty second street Betrothed in their despair- A boy devoid of emotion A girl without hope for humanity They shared pathes for The longest time in silence Until the girl spoke Her voice laden with fear Towards this newcome stranger So they shared stories. Silence followed once again. Neither said a word Though they felt an awkward Kinship towards one another - One might go as far to say That it was love at first sight - Inspired by the provoking idea That someone else understood. And with that notion The boy grasped her hand - It was dreadfully cold, after all. The girl flashed a hesitant smile Shocked at the tears in his eyes Oblivious to her own. The children walked on like that Bearing tears of compassion.. They cried for one another As they walked farther And farther Away. They wandered aimlessly. The days turned to weeks The weeks turned to months The months to years The years counted five And five spelled the end. They slept in shelter's presence Walked when there was none Call them homeless Call them broke Call them uneducated I called them complete. It is extraordinary, The power of love, The couple had nothing But lived as if They had everything - As far as I cared We did. They had emotion They had hope They had each other - The world at The tips of their fingers They could go where ever Could go when ever Could be what ever Could never last. Today she turns seventeen And the boy proposed Down on his knees Without a ring Knelt in the snow It soaked his tattered jeans But he didn't mind, because She said yes. And unbeknownst to either The day would be their last. On that very night A great blizzard fell Slowly but surely Onto the entire world There was no shelter. The girl started to shiver And her face went slightly pale So they stopped for the night Camped under a bed of ferns The aging, holey flannel jacket As their only source of warmth. Asleep in eachother's arms Exhausted in the roaring night. He awoke at half past nine The snow had stopped The sun was rising The winds had quieted It was bitterly cold She was asleep. Her breathing had stopped Her chest was hardly rising Her wheezing had quieted She was bitterly cold. Her face was pale Her fingers impossibly white Her heart barely beating Silently clinging to life But her grip was slipping. The boy panicked He touched her cheeks She remained silent He said her name She didn't move He cried to himself The first time in a long time He bent his head down Placed his ear right on her heart And barely heard her whisper: I'm cold. He picked her up And walked along the road Slowly but surely Making his way to town - Call it luck Call it fate An ambulance pulled up behind him The sirens blaring His heart skipped a beat He turned around and waved The driver scowled as He swerved right past him. So the boy walked He walked and He walked and He walked Until he stood at the hospital gates He had made it With a sigh of relief It would be alright.. He sat down his one And only love To discover that The doors were locked. So he waited. The grand clock ticks At every hour, you see. And today was no differant It rang out loud and clear Midnight One, two, three Four and five Six. It was six o' five If you want to be exact As the lead surgeon Drove down the highway Sipping on a coffee Still waking up Barely more then a kid himself. Lazily he turned the last corner Drove into the parking lot As a sight met his eyes And words escaped his mouth: What the hell? And then he drove closer Cautiously Slowly but surely A sight met his eyes And words escaped his mouth: Oh my god. The sight in front of him Made the surgeon rub his eyes Two kids laying down In front of the doors Older clothes Homeless? Upon closer inspection The clothes were more like rags A boy and a girl. The first appeared to be crying And the latter deathly pale. He got out of the car Dropped his coffee Ran the rest of the way. Six hours later. The girl is in a hospital bed Her clothes replaced with Hospital garments The boy refused new clothes He sat outside her room Shaking hands clasping A single page from a Worn out bible He was crying. The girl's eyes fluttered open She looked about in fear Taking in strange surroundings An IV in her arm Respirator on her mouth She couldn't hardly move New clothes? And that was it for now As exhaustion overcame And she fell into a restless sleep Shivering all along. The doctor approached the boy He wanted answers- Teens just don't appear on doorsteps In tattered clothes With no apparent family By their accent, though, Seeming to be a long way from home. A teenage boy doesn't Just appear at your door His cheeks streaked with tears Standing in the rain Holding an unconcious girl Scars all over her arms A once broken leg Dying of pneumonia. So the boy told him Spilled his guts And as much of hers As he could bear to recall - the doctor simply gasped As if it's not enough The vitals' alarm went off. She awoke, careful Not to move that fast Didn't have much feeling In her body Didn't notice them until A few minutes later When her sight came into A decent perspective And saw a hand clasping hers. Following the arm Stood the face she had awoke to Every morning for As long as she cared to remember. She tried to smile but It took so much effort Instead she whispered, I'm dying, aren't I. The boy broke out in tears As he asked the surgeon To leave them alone for awhile. They didn't say much She drifted in and Out of conciousness. His hands never stopped shaking. The idea shocked him How much more excrutiating Mental pain Happened to be. He could deal with All the bumps and bruises Was in more then a few fights But this new feeling It cut right through Each and every one Of his final and last defenses. This never subsiding pain Such a numbing feeling Never present but always there Invisibility oh so bold. Several hours went by like that Until passed the fifth and last She opened her eyes If but for a second Her lips moved, whispered The boy leaned towards her Straining to hear It took all of a second For him to comprehend The truth behind such simple words: I love you. And the boy watched His one and only love die. Oddly, there were no tears. He stared at her For seemingly the longest time Until he could take it no more And closed her eyelids Ever so delacitely With his fore and middle finger So dissapeaered Her oh so frozen eyes. He stepped out the window As the doctor came back in Confused to find him gone The heart moniter was beeping The girl wasn't breathing With a lungful sigh The doctor witnessed A figure dissapear Into the forever receeding horizon And the raging winds whispered ; Don't cry over me. * * * They had the funeral About a week later Buried her on Sentinel Hill In a little grove between A pair of maple trees Overlooked by a crystal lake It was a beautiful spot. A small crowd had gathered Mainly older folk with Nothing better to do But the surgeon was there as well. He threw the first Cleft if dirt onto The wooden box acting As her coffin, the nails Kinda crooked and the boards A little warped. She was buried in The hospital scrubs No one would put much money Towards the aid of An unknown dead girl. The surgeon tried but couldn't Haunted at the thoughts Of how an innocent, lovely girl Could be draped in such scars The autopsy showed Any other, normal? Girl Probably would have lived Her immune system Just wasn't quite right But it didn't say quite how. In her left hand The surgeon had found a Little wad of paper With aging, barely legible Type writer print, It was years old and As far has he could tell It seemed to just quite read: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust I'm sure and certain In the hope of the Ressurection into eternal life. And in the right A little piece of letter typed Looked to be from a book It simply read, 'till then'. It started raining a few hours later As the surgeon turned the corner And walked to the door of His two room apartment A kitchen and their room If you want to be exact. A girl greted him in The entrance, leening on the frame She told him dinners ready Followed by a short embrace And they talked about What the life held In store for them today Like they did everyday Just something to wind Down into the evening. He kissed her on the cheek And asked to be excused It had been a dreadfully long day. Falling asleep he had A single thought on his mind The strange couple And what little Of their stories he knew * * * |