There is a boy in my second period English class. His eyes were a vibrant blue with an undeniable sparkle to them, his smile crossed from ear to ear, and his laugh would fill the room in unexpected, and sometimes inappropriate, instances. In every sense of the word He is beautiful.
There is a boy in my second period English class. His eyes were still the same beautiful blue color, but over the long days and hard nights they had lost their captivating sparkle. His smile grew faint and tight lipped and his booming laugh degraded to a faint chuckle. In every sense of the word He is beautiful.
There is a boy in my second period English class. His eyes are a dull gray and his smile non-existent. He never laughs or even talks anymore. In every sense of the word He is beautiful.
There once was a boy in my second period English class. They found him a few weeks ago wearing his nicest suit clenching onto a folded up note. He was surrounded by pills. He loved art and looking at the stars. He was... He is beautiful in every sense of the word.
