not named

May 26, 2010
By Anonymous

A little girl lies in bed
Aspirations torn to shreds
As dinner is served
Innocent thoughts stay reserved
A mother lovingly comforts her child
But her illness will never be filed.
Final daily complaints are made
But all she seeks is medical aid
As they pull their doonas up tight
She stares up at the moonlight
They dream about school and friends
She wonders if anyone could apprehend
That she isn’t sure if in the morning
Her sister will find her lifeless without warning.

The author's comments:
pretty bad rhyming but i wanna use the idea of it

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