She’s only 14.

Her heart so meek,

Her soul so sweet,

Her mind deadly

My scythe, her air,

Each day despair,

Words clogged by dread,

She knows I’m her end.

I cant accept

My warm kind gift

Can turn so sick,

Or seem a trick.

I want to care.

Welcome the end.

So as your friend,

I’ll do my best…

She was only 14.