Why must life be so destructive, so hard, and yet never ends. Why must it go on, the pain all the death and all of the abuse? As a child I’m looked at as one and people never believe what I say is true but what I say is true. Only I will truly know the extent and passion of my own words that I wright or think during the cruel times that everyone shall go through. The world isn’t right for a child and even my ignorance on the subject of what’s wrong with the world doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s still wrong.
The day I can truly see the light without the price of someone’s death is the day I can truthfully say that today is a perfect day but never shall it come until I am the one that shall pay with my own life to ascend to a perfect word, if I have lived in his name.
So world I say this to you, if a child can look towards your horizon and see the destruction and perversion how can any of us ever expect to see the light?