I was pushed so many times that I started loving the ground,
People spoke so much that I started hating their presence around.
I had just too many battles to fight,
There was no aid, that's why I began to write.
Poetry wasn't just an ointment to the wounds I received, it was much more,
It was a home to me because the world otherwise hurt me to my core.
I have alot to speak, alot to reveal,
But I just don't because no one understands how I feel.
~*~

[p.p.s: These poems do not depict my life in any way. Thank you. ]