A girl with black locks lay curled in her bed,

Her pillow cradling her head.

Covering her face with her hands, she wept,

Sniffling until she eventually slept.

The next morning she would wake up again,

Stuck in a loop, an invisible pen.

Rolling out of bed, she got dressed.

Her obsidian eyes solemn, her hair a mess,

Weighed down by despair she tried to compress.

She walked downstairs with heavy steps,

Only to be met with disapproving glares.

Cowering under their menacing stares,

Her smile faded, a sight now rare.

Terrified of their disappointment,

From her life, she removed all sources of enjoyment.

Her heart growing emptier every day,

She tried her best but was always left in dismay.

All she wanted to do was look at a screen,

To hide from everything that was mean,

And pretend that it was all a bad dream.