by kezy
Hello up there my beloved guinea-pig
I got you in yr 3and now you end your life in yr 6
As i gase at your grave throught the window
i talk to you of my problems
but as i grow sader every day i might die of depretion
you've lightent up my life having a tug of war with my and the celery
but as i wright this poem i grown weaker every day just thinking
thinking of the good times weve had but i only guess that youfluffy are my angel as soon as scamper joins you