I wrote this after I found one of my best art peices torn up. I had spent 3 weeks and 10 dollars worth of prisma color pencils on it. I kept the sketch though

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It feels today was good.
Until I got to art.
I am a good artist.
She made an announcement.
To take home our old work.
I searched and searched and searched
To find my one drawing
Of my super hero.
But I could not find it.
I found some other work.
But not what I wanted.
My friend Danielle found it.
Was ripped and all torn up.
Her torso, face, and name
Were all completely gone
I stared at my drawing
Shock stuck to my features
I had no idea what
Or who could have done this
To my favorite drawing.
I asked the teacher if
It was like this before
She said that it was not
I could not keep the tears
Locked up behind my eyes
They spilled down my warm cheeks
Then I had realized that
There is someone who would
Do this just to hurt me
Her name is Samantha
And she was just jealous
Of my beautiful art
Now I’m the one torn up.