𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐍 ~ 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲

Chapter 6: Bravery in Many Forms

A/N: Sorry it's a little late haha enjoy!

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Gwendolyn walked quietly along the lake inspecting her poem, to make it flawless. The subtle sounds of the lakes waves and the glimmer of the sun's rays bouncing off the water soothed her. She tried not to crinkle the piece of paper in a nervous habit. She could ruin the paper. Gwendolyn looked up from her poem and watched as geese soared in the sky, departing from the lake, where they had probably gotten a good drink and a bit of food.

She wondered if she was up there. Gwendolyn remembered she had always liked how the birds were able to fly and that she wanted to become one someday, if only just for a moment.

She smiled sadly and continued her walking, blinking her tears away.

How she missed her sometimes.

***

"For Chris..." Knox gulped, standing in front of the class. Gwendolyn smiled and perked up a little, resting the knuckles of her hand on her chin.

"I see a sweetness in her smile"
"Bright lights shine from her eyes"
"But life is complete"
"Contentment is mine"
"Just knowing that..."

A couple of the boys snickered behind their closed fists and Gwendolyn wanted to scream at them and ask them if they could do any better. She opted for the less violent approach and glared at them.

"Just knowing that."

Hopkins guffawed loudly and Gwendolyn felt the extreme urge to sock him in the mouth.

"She's alive." Knox finished dejectedly and crumpled up the paper, "Sorry, captain it's stupid."

"No, no, it's not stupid. It's a good effort. It touched on one of the major themes: love! A major theme not only in poetry but life."

Gwendolyn tapped his arm as he walked by,  "It was a good poem Knox." He smiled a little and nodded in thanks.

"Mr. Hopkins, you were laughing. You're up." Hopkins sauntered up, smirking to himself, throwing a wink at Gwendolyn who itched to give him the finger.

"The cat sat on the mat." He stated with no feeling whatsoever and then, he went back to his desk, accompanied by the chortles of his friends.

"Congratulations Mr. Hopkins. You have the first poem to ever have a negative score on the Pritchard scale." Gwendolyn snorted despite herself, "We're not laughing at you, we're laughing near you. I don't mind that your poem had a simple theme, sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about it simple things, like a cat, or a flower, or rain. You see, poetry can come from anything with the stuff of revelation in it. Just don't let your poems by ordinary. Now who's next?" He walked over, caught Gwendolyn's eye and smiled, "Gwen. Care to read us your poem?"

"It'd be my pleasure." Gwendolyn winked, and stood up straight. She walked to the front of the class with her chin held high. Now was not the time to freak out.

Todd looked in wonder at how composed she was when she had to stand in front of the class and read something that she, herself, wrote. Todd couldn't comprehend it.

Gwendolyn cleared her throat with a cough and began,

"There was a girl I once knew"
"Not so long ago"
"She loved ribbons, fastened to lovely silk dresses"
"Birds that soared in the depths of blue skies"
"And the fall leaves on trees, that transformed from green coats"
"Taking on a much more colourful approach"