By Akilika Q
"I'm sorry," I said, a tearful phrase,
"I cannot take care of you, these days;
My time is gone, my points are gone;
To keep you neglected, starved, is wrong.
"It's not you're fault; you're a great friend,
And I wish our times together didn't end;
But I just can't stay here anymore,
Neopia, no longer can I explore."
"But why?" you asked, your small voice a squeak;
You'd really diminished, your figure is weak.
"I don't want you to leave; why must you go?"
You sniffled, and it tore in my soul.
"Look at you!" I cried, my feelings set free,
"You're weak, you're starving because of me!
Your toys are all set in a store-glass frame,
I don't have any more time to play.
"I can't afford to keep you fed,
It's a wonder that you haven't fled!
If I keep you any longer, you won't survive;
The pound . . . it'll make sure you don't die."
"I'm strong, though! Believe me!" to me you pleaded.
"Remember the others? The ones I defeated?
I can make do; don't leave me here, please!"
Though I noted your voice was a coughing wheeze.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, "that I had to go."
I closed my eyes, then, my spirit at low.
I heard all your calls, such heart-wrenching sounds,
They weaved through my mind, as I turned around.
I'm sorry, my friend, that I left you back there;
Sometimes, at night, I see your sad stare.
Believe me, over you I haven't gotten;
In my mind and heart, you'll never be forgotten.