Pink fur the color of strawberry milk
Brown beady eyes like mud
A small purple dress with torn lace
Dotted with small flecks of blood.
White heart shaped patches
Fur unbrushed, but neatly sheared
Voice box removed at an earlier time
Surrounding my room with silence and fears
Tears had been soaked in her fur
Loose drops of blood flow as I stir
Her sword prepared to fight them off
Her armor comes on.
Her fear is turned off.
She glared at evil
Who roars back, giving her a fright
Her flinch isn't noticeable
She's prepared to fight.
The sun rose before then
The rats bringing in light
She looked over my sleeping body
Knowing I was safe for another night.
The little Teddy Bear's name is Kayla
Her fur is now worn
But she always refuses to fight
Until the enemy is gone next morn.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
ПоэзияIt's just a collection of what I feel like writing. I'm not really sure that I should call them poems. There's no real purpose of what's in here. If any of these don't make sense, just ask me. I'm gonna try and write one for every day of the year.
