Discarded Squirtle
The sand creases beneath my weak feet,
As the waves cascade against the shore.
I land on my back, my shell still cracked,
Wishing that I had given more.
An outcast, a misfit, is what I have become;
Discarded by my trainer, neglected by most.
I wander without hand around this desolate land,
A lonesome figure set against the dying coast.
I lie down as the sun creeps under,
Fading away to unsettling black,
I close my eyes as tears subside,
Dreaming of the comfort I lack.
I wake up in idyllic fashion;
Hands and warmth smother me close.
Upwards I peek and I'm met with the cheek
Of a friendly figure who can cure my woes.
I am led to a prestigous laboratory,
(Best in the region, I am told),
And after a few tests and a large number of guests
I am put in a Poke-ball and behold!
A trainer strides into the welcoming room,
And is given a Pokedex to carry,
He takes one look and twas me that he took!
He goes by the name of Gary.
Hope the poem isn't too subtle in the references.
