She drags herself from class to class, Each day blending with the next. Creeping slowly toward her death. "I want to go," she spoke. "I need to get away From this life and its redundancy. There's no way I can stay." She told me true, She planned it all. But not ready was she yet. Not possibly could she go, For at present she was "FAT." Skin and bones they called her, But the opposite she sees. The confidence she lacks, Is plainly clear to me. "If you keep going at this rate Surely you'll be gone, Before this school year’s over. Your life has just begun. I can help you, I can try To remedy your health." "Thank you," she smiled. "But you can't save me from myself."

No more will my tears be stifled. As fountains they will flow. Down my face and into a row. In a line they will sit. Perfectly poised, straight, and tall. Steady and constant, they will fall. That would be truely bliss. Oh I wish it were true, So never more would I blame you.