The Canvas of Life

The little girl watches as a fire
ravages her world, paints it
sunset-orange and red, tears
through the fabric of the canvas
that was her life. She does not

shed a tear yet, for she does
not know what is going on.
As though it were a real fire
she cowers under the bed,
hands over her hazel eyes,

hoping the images will go
away. Vanish into the night.
It only persists, sounds growing
louder and louder, voices
distorted, words no more

than groans, pressing down
heavily on the bed. She
feels the air tighten around
her, suffocating her. She
can't let this go on any longer.

She hurriedly crawls out
from beneath the bed.
“Stop!” she cries out.
“Please don't fight.”
The tears come in a flood.