It wasn’t if she stood up straight Or if she could retaliate It wasn’t if her eyes burned red Or if she flashed her claws instead

It wasn’t if she didn’t cry Or if she hated long goodbyes It wasn’t being lithe of limb Or fit and strong or quick and trim

It was that, deep inside her heart, Where treasured things lay in the dark Regardless of how her world turned: She let an ember of hope burn.