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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1763399
The very short life of a baby goat.
I feel the walls begin to shake
And my atmosphere begin to empty.

Suddenly I am not floating,
And am being squeezed.

My brother beside me
Squirms, and is moved by the force around us.

This goes on,
Until I'm alone in the room.

I panic,
And feel myself pushed forward.

My feet and nose
Feel a bitter cold like I've never felt.

I try to go back,
but I can't.

I see so much light, and
It blinds me.

I'm pushed farther and farther,
Feeling colder, and colder.

Finally I drop.
So, so, cold.

I can't move so freely,
I feel so cold, and everything's so bright.

Someone, my mother,
Nuzzles me.

She begins to clean me,
Licking the membrane from my nose and ears.

I see her chase another goat away,
Defending me.

I just wish it weren't so cold!

I see my brother,
Just feet from me.

Laying there,
Shivering, and wet, barely breathing.

I feel the same cold that my brother
Has now just succumbed to.

My mother,
She's trying so hard to help us,

But she can't fight the cold,
The cold that is seeping into my feet,

Freezing them.

I'm so, so, cold,
I can't feel my legs.

Now I can barely breath,
Everything's going dark.

I feel that familiar floating feeling,
And it's so comforting.

I can't feel the cold now,
Just calm.

I'm warm now,
It's time to sleep.
© Copyright 2011 Odeina Adoram (wolfie_1 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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