Hate is grown like a child.
It's a seed that becomes thorns,
and anyone who has a heart
bleeds until they die.
YOU ARE READING
Small Voices
Short StoryWhile I sit alone, the voices whisper in my head. I close my eyes to hear them say."write us.... don't let us die when you're dead....."
Hate 💔
Hate is grown like a child.
It's a seed that becomes thorns,
and anyone who has a heart
bleeds until they die.
