Literature
A Doctor Who Poem
A hundred different faces, a thousand different names.
One who fights, one who forgets, one who remembers but is never the same.
He keeps count of all he’s lost, at night when she’s alone.
He doesn’t do the family thing, and yet she has a helpline telephone.
He’s the last of his kind, but she’s also the first.
Running through time and space, trying to save the universe.