pale as a sheet and glassy eyed,
his little frame stretched out
on the couch with one socked feet.
as he curled them by his side
that vacant look, a sleepy look,
he mumbles that he's fine.
but maybe we could call his school
and tell them that he's dying.
that we did and later on
we checked that he's not dead;
the little ****** smiled at us
while bouncing on his bed