• Every day we'd listen to skillet. If I saw a scary bug she would know how to kill it.
    Her mud brown eyes as we'd watch the sky would always seem to glisten.
    When I wanted to talk she was always there to listen.

    (here comes the sad part)

    Then she started skipping school and sneaking in boys at night.
    Doing drugs, she even stopped killing the scary bugs.
    Then one day she ran away. and while at bay, i'd cry and cry, i'd cry all day