"Lonely"

The duck lay near the bend, crying sweet soft tears,
Of sadness and remorse.
As the duck hears voices and noises,
It turns its head, hopeful for a friend.
But alas, it is just a bloody beaver,
Coming to make its way to its home.
The duck bows its head down, defeated.
'I'll never have a friend,' thinks the duck to itself.
And as it thought that, it's thoughts wandered to its childhood;
Of how it was left behind, and couldn't find a home.
It was so lost then, but it just kept on going.
The duckling soon found its way in a bookshop,
And out of boredom, it taught itself to read.
Quite literate, it found a book,
Which seemed oddly like the duckling's own life.
Alarmed, the duckling read it, and quickly grew angered and sad,
For the book was nothing near the truth.
It spoke of the duckling soon having been found by its mother,
Which of course, never really happened.
As reality dawned upon the little duckling,
It hid in a wall in the bookshop, and spent its life there.
The duck sighs, and continues to look around.
It sees the beaver working on its damm, whistling happily.
The duck forces itself to look the other way,
It is waiting for its mother, but it seems that would not be the case.
The duck wipes the tears away, and begins waddling to the damm,
In hope of making conversation with the beaver.