Six years, almost seven. And she still has such harsh thoughts about herself?
Thinks she's the worst, for breaking a toy?
Worthless little peice of wood. And she's the worst?
Wrong, so wrong.
Some have killed their sisters just to do it.
Yet she sits in her closet and weeps,
Over a wooden dog, with one leg missing, and the paint gone.
She knows not of what it means to be a bad sister.
So young, and still so self loathing. I worry.
If she does this over a peice of wood,
what will she do when we fight?
How will she be later?
Will there be a later?
Six years, almost seven.
Thinks she's the worst.
Over a wooden dog, with one leg missing, and the paint gone...
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The world through my eyes.
At the top sit privilaged few, turning those below into nothing more than filth on which to drop their s**t.
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