shadow through the glass

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Hiccups poem

Chef's serve gravy with beef, meals are so small
Much like my stomach
Doctors take test of me, needles are pierced
Its all so grotesque

Twisted and disformed
My life so forlorn

My mother is at work, she cant come see me
To talk

A tear and a stain
My throat is so dry

This is what it feels like
To want to cry after i die

I cannot move, i cannot even go to the toilet
I cannot see, i cannot even lift my foods foil lid

I am not even starved, ive lost my appetite
But they still come and serve, hoping ill eat tonight

My father he sleeps, o'er on the chair
Too far deep, he really can hide fear
But i guess it is fair
That i am still here

Its just that when i wake
What will it take
For me to not stop myself from vomiting
From tonights meal its revolting

I look up from my tray, a noise i heard out side
A figure walks past
And then turns back to the right
A silhouette,  a little ghost
A boy at the most

"Why are you here?" i ask
To the shadow through the glass

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