a born child to be neglected in a world so infected in hate, anger and being decepted life only seeing one shadow. Swimming through life with a tooth pick looking broken wood paddle.
my forearm looks like a scratch broad. The pain I absorbed got me on the floor. Before I rest I put on my vest shoot myself with a pistol to my head. pull the trigger till my whole beds red. there's no hope for people like me. that cant stand no more on his feet.so here I write my life in rhyme putting my time inserting my words between papers line.