Villians Aren’t Born, but Monsters exist

Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t always this way.

Environmental factors froze my heart into place—

my demeanor turned cold with the likes of another ice age.

Eventually all slowly melted, never revealing to be the same.

For this world‘s devilish antics & violence, turned my views into fire & my eyes filled of rage.

Not a single infant, then turned child ever knows the feeling of hate.

Not until they’re pushed around, berated & blamed.

That’s when it happened, too many times I seen blood shed & no shame.

Similar to an hourglass, my innocence, my trust, that love—

fell like grains of sand, over & over with lack of escape.

Villians aren’t born, but monsters exist.

Turning the softest of souls into the harder of stones—

quickly to throw right into glass homes, so you bare the guilt and not them.

Looking back, it’s not hard to see why I am, how I am.