The first thing I've written in a long time.
I have no idea about the backstory of these characters, so future authors should feel free to explore that as they want.
Oh, and let me know if you want me to change the title for the sequel.
Something about the way she sits,
sending warnings to all around.
They leave her alone; except for a few
men, either brave or stupid enough
to try getting within her fortress walls.
She holds her umbrella, point down,
like a sword, ready at any second
to attack with the slightest provocation.
The shiftiness in her eyes betrays
the secret: she'd just rather not.
She's not just alone; she's lonely.
And she prefers it that way.
The hardness of her jaw
says she's strong enough
to endure and persevere. And maybe
I don't want to be alone
anymore. Maybe sometimes
I am surprised
by how much I miss you.
Or maybe she just looks like you.