This was written off of a prompt on Scott Woods’ live journal – write a poem using the words “piecemeal”, “gallery”, “submission”, and “belt”. Enjoy.
-Nicole
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The young orphaned boy grew into a man
forever in submission to sorrow and a
bright burning anger. His servitude was
a piecemeal development over time,
it growing as he grew into a man.
Soon, he built himself, in muscle and mind,
into an avenger, a quick witted
night soldier who could cleave the average
criminal asunder with machete
sharp precision. In time, a gallery
of gadgets served the Dark Knight, as well as
a customized creation of a car,
his second skin of a suit, and, always
around his waist, his utility belt.
Yet, still underneath this dark armor lies
a pure heart, broken from the loss long
ago of his parents, killed by a thief,
common and heartless. He is always in
the shadows of the city – every night
Bruce Wayne dies, and Batman emerges
in his place like a winged, black, cold Phoenix.
Written 6/22/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.
