The Hunt Poem by Stefanie Fontker

Easy to manipulate
Easier to fool
A lovely girl
Is not lovely when
Broken and discarded
People say that nice
Girls finish last
I think they just
Die first, perhaps
Of shattered feelings
Or a stolen heart
And so the hunt begins
With lovely nice girl
Running at top speed
And me watching
At the sidelines
I could not do it,
Take her down
She is not my prey
I could not drink
Her blood
So instead I am here,
Shaking my head
I told her not to
There is no point
Her heart is numb
And her knees are weak
She is too proud
To just accept her fate
She thinks she can
Take care of herself
If this is how it works
If this is taking care
Of herself, perhaps her
Unborn children are lucky
That she will fall today