SHIVER
First poem, always poem.
DISCLAIMER: I don't have any money, If I did, I'd make the animators draw faster.
Half-past noon, 0 degrees celcius, a traitor caught a chill.
His chill became a cold, so he exercised, and it became a fever.
It was staggering. 45 degrees, rising by the minute.
Becoming delearious, he had finally fell into a slumber.
And in his dreams, caught his eye, 4 faces staring at him.
He was walking into this strange, but familliar place.
He saw a blonde boy, staring at him.
Next, a pink-haired girl.
Then, he'd see, of all things, his goal, his break-up, his mistake.
Would he be able to cover it up?
Would it matter?
Can he go back, to the place he thought he once adored?
He suddenly woke up, and felt better.
But something peculiar happened during that time, a feel of warmth and healing passed by.
Its tears left a mark on his body, and in his soul.
Word Count: 145.