If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you
“I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” ―Charles Dickens
The girl’s words were harsh
Spitting words at her “friend”
Her attitude the opposite of sweet
Words past by
Making her “friend” cry
She wanted to stop
But anger powered over her
Acid ran down her face
Memories ran through her mind
At last
She walked away
Leaving nothing but hatred
And regret