Letter Ever Red

Edited from a previous poem written for a role play.

The boy of no purpose on his windowsill sat,

His hands in his lap, his eyes on the cat

His breath betrays no symptoms

Of the venom in his veins

The Scarlet Child blisters

His mother burns with shame

So the boy of no purpose on his windowsill sat,

His breath lost from lungs, pale eyes on the cat.