As I stood there with the sun blinding my vision, I felt frozen to the ground.
A million voices shouting in my head trying to pacify my rage.
The pain and the hunger so profound.
I asked myself, “why am I the one?”
I wanted to write my story but alas I’m not so fortunate to do so.
As when I look at the words, all I see is shapes that I yearn to understand.
With no food nor shelter, I searched in vain trying to find something to quench my pain.
Alas I’m not so fortunate.
Looking around I see people with everything they never wanted but still have.
And here I am scavenging for their leftovers.
Even though they have everything, they have no happiness.
For I despite my void, continue to find peace in my thoughts that gets me through the day.
All I need is a chance to be pulled up as I stretch my arms in a hope that I will be saved one day and tell my story to the world.
But alas I’m not so fortunate.
And now my arms grow weary of the pain and the hunger and I finally decide to let go with a hope that this will all end soon.
But alas I’m not so fortunate for this to end as I must travel down this road everyday until I gather the strength to end it.
Tried my shot at something different this time.