My friends from the past,
Their hearts were so vast.
I thought they hurt me,
I thought they hated me.
I thought I was a toy,
That brings them joy.
So I hated them till last,
Without knowing their past.
Their heart, in a state of wretched
Agony, their pure heart drenched
All in pain,
The small child remaining,
Ever so silent, even while crying,
Even while screaming,
And still, I hated them till the last,
Without ever knowing their past ...