That little boy…died at 9

That little boy was just 9 and I believe he’d seen more pain than an average 9year old should. 

I didn’t know him that well but I guarantee he’d done more trades than allowed by law and had cried more times than his bewildered eyes should. 

I didn’t know him that well but this little I knew:

That his mother died three months after his birth and his cruel aunt beat him more than she should have. His father ran off in the middle of the night. It was an April night, or so I was told. And he never sat in a classroom, never even imagined what it would have been like. But that little boy, he knew he was good at something other than cleaning windows of cars and polishing old men’s shoes. He believed he could have excelled in maths or even economics because his entire life was based on both disciplines.

That little boy, he spent 7 years of his short lived life suffering from cancer. And the doctors didn’t know, his family diagnosed him with bad destiny- how superstitious they were! That little boy, died at 9 and everyone forgot to mourn.

Appreciate your life some more, thank God you’re not that little boy.

Photography credits: pixabay

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