lost

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Teet, teet, teet,

the heartbeat monitor sounded.

There by the white sheets

and white pillow,

and white bed,

sat the former cheerful boy.

Frown never left his face,

as if someone

cursed his mouth

to never smile again.

That's right.

My best friend did it.

Out came his red and puffy face


from the doors

of the outside world.

With my only eye,

(I wished they

could just leave the room,

so that I could show him

my terrible wound

I received from him.)

I glared daggers at him.

He was crying:

I'm sorry! Sorry,

Sorry, sorry, SORRY!!

It was an accident!

No words

left my lips,

as I kept

with my glare.

I wanted

to look at him no more.

I felt like

that he needed a fist,

delivered straight ,

to his oh-so handsome face.

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