When I was little I was shot in the leg.
I begged for the god to save me. But no god answered, but a young man who had no business being there, saved me and carried me home.
His home.
He took me in as his own without thinking twice, he taught me the ways to hunt, the way to succeed.
I taught him how to love nothing that will hopefully turn to something.
Nobody perfect, but my dad is my dad.
Thank you for taking me in. For showing the correct way to grow up.
I know I missed up alot, i did alot these two years.
I know I'll i never get that trust back but trust me on this I'll do my best and I'll always protect my sisters. I always will and that promise of a lifetime.
(That's a Naruto thing you'll probably never get it but just know it's a big thing when I say that.)
Thank you so much for taking care of us I'm sorry for my mistakes it wont happen again.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry : A King's Poverty
PoesieA description of a king is almost defined by the way there Kingdom is perceive "Perfect" Nobody knows that, the ruler of the Land wears two crowns with two different coronation, One crown is for his might, the other is the side he never shows. As yo...
