Hmm… this is the, I think second useless poem I have written. Some thing is wrong with my mind I am not even good, read my story though I like that one:o)

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They were far from home, lost I guess you could say.

If you asked her though, her pride would say nay.

Together but separate, with nothing to do.

He laughed at her worriers, unexpectedly true.

He said nothing would happen, and believed it still.

Lost in a forest she went for the kill.

He watched as she hunted, sad not to join.

He made a big fire good enough to cook.

She sat there and watched him wonders untold

They knew not about one another, but lost they were.

Telling stories of nothing but pleasantly told.

This poem is ending still they are gone.

No one is looking for the huntress and chef.

Lost are they till the end knowing not of the rest.