My Good Old Friend

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Makaila Hines Barr Brit. Lit. A December 18, 2012 My good old friend It was the night before Christmas/ I was filled with joy. I got a new puppy as a toy/ with excitement, I yelled “Oh Boy!” I named her Flower/ and we played together for hours. One day she wouldn’t bark, / this sadness nearly broke my heart. I acquire abysmal alteration / but abscond alternatively with abyssal anguish I asked my mom do we have any batteries/ she ignored me and continued her Pilates. I had loved her for a year on end/ she stood by me and was my only friend. But I knew our goodbyes were far from done/ I will miss you forever and on. My tears weighed a million tons/ like rivers that gush and run. The sound of my Flower’s barks ringing in my ears / softly helps me to delay my tears. Darkness has come upon my soul/ with mournfulness I can no longer hold. I broke out in a rage/ and began to look for her instruction page. Looking near and far/ I didn’t find anything but the monkey bars. I sat on playground wishing for a solution/ all I could think about was her sitting next to me on a soft cushion. As I looked around, all I saw was her / I just wanted to touch her fluffy fur. Slowly strolled the sidewalk staring straight down/ I began to shut down. I shortly realized there was no hope of her turning on/ so I put her in the back of the family Yukon. Flower sat in a box very still/ just like a jogger-less treadmill. I made a regretful decision to give Flower away/ hopefully she can go play with somebody in Norway. Dismally I knew Flower, my toy marvelous mutt, was broke/ I handed her over to the Goodwill guy that was about to

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