I had to face my troubles
at my first inches of growth,
which made all my childish euthusiasm bleed away.
Timidity became my confidant.
Tears were my constant rain.
The heap of hatred heavied
my little soul.
Climbing my ladder ,
I struggled with my voice.
My opinions were just passers-by.
Fluster became my anchor.
I bumbled with my adaptations.
Words were used to bruise me,
Truths hit me...