I was born. November. On a cold day. I never want to remember my birth. The day that I was let into this world of hate and demise. No one likes me here. I rather be dead.
The day I was brought home, I saw a loving family who cared for me as much as they cared for themselves. Everyday I was alive, they cherished me. Loved me.
I was perfect.
Time went by. I saw more of the world. The world we lived in was full of people who hated me.
How many people love you , is also how many people who hate you.
Yah. I knew.
I knew that time would go by. One day I would finally see what this world is. What it has become. How different it is compared to where I came from, and how I was taught. The world no one wants to live in, just because. Because no one cares, even if you die, no one cares. For all I know, hatred, Is what matters in this world.
