Trapped Poem by Alyssa Baker

Frost floats on the ground's surface.
The mist, still, mesmerized in the cold air.
The air stingily against my bear skin.
The dead wind piercing as it flows past me.

Standing bare in the cold,
A cloth the only source of warmth and dignity.
Bare feed deep and still in the snow.
No movement, no life.

The trees all shook as the thundering sound passed,
The snow quivered off the branches.
Deafened by the booming sound,
Now there is no turning back.

Dead still, my arms fallen. Act no more.
My blood-red lips tremble silently.
The eyes are dea, staring into this empty world.
The dead wind brushes my dead hair against my dead face.

THe tears that fall puddle around my feet.
Melting the soft snow, breaking its whole form.
Until it froze, locking my feet in place.
Trapped, there is no reaction, no movement, no life.

A dropp of deep red appears on the cloth,
It seeps from my skin onto the cloth.
Soaking it with blood.
How did I get here? What have I done?

They will find her when morning comes;
Lying bare, trapped in the snow,
Circled in a mixture of tears and blood.
Her open dead eyes, windows to her closed dead soul.

Loaded gun in hang, with a single bullet shell.
She went slowly,
She went with a numb pain,
She went with no dignity.